


What Lies Ahead: Lionheart

by 127ghouls



Series: What Lies Ahead [3]
Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Action, Blood Kink, Blood and Gore, Blow Jobs, Crime AU, M/M, Mafia AU, Mental Instability, Murder, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-03
Updated: 2019-02-03
Packaged: 2019-10-16 10:29:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 67,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17547980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/127ghouls/pseuds/127ghouls
Summary: Taeyong lives. Why wouldn't he? He's sinister, masked with charm and fueled by his obsession with Jaehyun's existence. He will never let the hands of death have a hold on him as long as the other is within reach. Because after so many years, someone else that isn't his sister proves to be a little too significant for his nature that isn't supposed to care.Decisions are made for the sake of seeing Jaehyun again and keeping him where he should be. What will be the fruit of it? Will there be a change of heart? If there is, how long will it last? Will it be able to withstand the reminder of reality and enemies that do not forget?





	What Lies Ahead: Lionheart

**Author's Note:**

> The third installment is here! Please enjoy reading uwu
> 
> Like before, please pardon all kinds of errors ESPECIALLY PLOTHOLES because i DON'T proofread jjnsm too lazy for it. SORRY OH MY GOD :(
> 
>  
> 
> [First Part: What Lies Ahead: Outset ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17092886)  
> [Second Part: What Lies Ahead: Downfall ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17349338)

Hours.

It has been several hours since they called an ambulance and Taeyong underwent an immediate surgery. Hours, since Jaehyun thought his chest would burst from how bad it constricted and he couldn’t breathe thinking he had lost Taeyong forever. Hours, since he started regretting everything from the beginning, when he thought leaving the other was the best option to take. Hours, since the thick, metallic blood had seeped through the fabric of his suit and had now dried up.

And it already feels like a lifetime since he had Taeyong in his arms, almost saying farewell.

Jaehyun finds himself in a private room where the caramel-head lies unconscious between white sheets, sleeping and looking peaceful, a stark contrast to his raging emotions earlier. He looks pale, like the life was drained out of him. Jaehyun glances up at the ceiling, hazy eyes squinting against the fluorescent light. The familiar, repetitive ticking of the clock calls for him, to make him look and see for himself how late it is, that it isn’t long before the sun rises – or maybe the sun’s already up but he doesn’t know, he has long lost track of time and soon his body will be screaming for him to shut down..

But he won’t allow it, can’t afford it. Leaving Taeyong without so much as a simple goodbye or the much preferred ‘see you later’ is just going to repeat the cycle. What if Taeyong wakes up and finds that he’s all alone in this room, with no one to call and ask what the hell just happened? What if Taeyong wakes up and misunderstands Jaehyun’s absence? It’s only going to continue what they left – the mess, the pain, the betrayal. All of it was the sharpshooter’s fault. He can’t afford to leave Taeyong’s side for now, even if it’s just for a second. A second is a second too long.

His mind is swarmed with thoughts, questions and future scenarios he has to prepare for that he doesn’t notice the soft creaking of the door as it opens and welcomes Yuta. Jaehyun only notices the other when he feels another presence sit next to him, and for the first time since entering this room, his eyes looks somewhere else other than the light and Taeyong’s immobility in the bed.

Yuta looks just as exhausted.

“Aren’t you going home?”

Again, he refuses to look at the time. He’s scared that if he does, he’d be tempted to do something – anything, whether it’s to go for a bathroom break, to eat, to check on the others outside. Because in those moments, Taeyong might wake up and think Jaehyun doesn’t care, never cared.

The last time he was in a hospital, waiting for a miracle was when his mother was in her deathbed. Memories flash back, and Jaehyun recalls clinging to her hand, feeling a little sad, but nothing more than that. They were never close. Yet still, his young heart ached because she was his mother, and their flesh and blood were connected.

This time, nothing of his is related to Lee Taeyong, but Jaehyun won’t question any longer why he hurts more, why it feels like his chest was pummeled numerous times and his lungs were ripped out of his inside. The answer lingers in the back of his mind, but it’s too overwhelming to acknowledge at the moment. Besides, he just confessed not long ago.

Actually, Jaehyun doesn’t even know if Taeyong was asking what he thought the other was asking. Is it romantically, or platonically, like the older was so persistent on trying with him? It’s probably the latter. Though, he won’t admit it out loud – but Jaehyun confessed for _both_ possibilities.

Strange.

A nudge pulls him out of his reverie. Realizing he hasn’t responded yet, Jaehyun clears his throat and wearily sighs, digging the heel of his palm down his eye to rub it off of sleep. “No. I need to settle some things with the doctor and the director. And everybody else running this hospital. They already know they can’t report it; I mentioned my identity instead, because I know he wouldn’t wanna be exposed.” Jaehyun nods, nods at something uncertain, like he’s trying to convince the Japanese that’s all he’s got to do hence why he can’t go just yet.  “I just need them to name the price.”

Of course he’s not a good liar and Yuta will see through his lies. He’s already done those things when Taeyong was taken to the surgery room, and when the doctor was done with the operation. Everything has been settled. He’s Jung Jaehyun and he doesn’t waste a second. If Yuta does realize all the bullshit he just spewed out, then he shall be glad the Japanese isn’t calling him out.

Yuta stares, scans his soul before averting his gaze. It lands on the sleeping lump in bed. “Your father is going to question the bank transaction and it isn’t even for anything we initially planned…or the purchase of those goods from Venandi.”

They both hear a scoff of disbelief. It came from the Invictus heir. “Yuta… Do you really think I’d still be concerning myself with anything related to Venandi at this point?” Incredulity drips in his tone as thick as it shows on his face. “They caged him like a dog and tried to sell him off. We can look for another alternative. The world is too big for us to run out of resources.”

“Well we had one but you blew it off for hi-“

Loud noises fill the room as Jaehyun flares out of his seat, the feet of the chair grating against the tiled floor. Yuta doesn’t get to finish his sentence because Jaehyun’s hands are gripping his shirt and he’s abruptly, carelessly pushed up against the wall with a ticking time bomb cornering him. At that moment, Yuta knew he fucked up.

“If it isn’t clear to you yet then I’ll tell you now.” Jaehyun seethes and he’s holding himself back so hard that his knuckles turn white over Yuta’s dark shirt. “I’m done pretending. I’m done denying. I get that all of you hate him, you’ve been with him longer than I did, seen his ugly sides more times than I did, but I’m done with it. I’m tired of it. I almost killed Taeyong, Yuta.” His voice cracks. Jaehyun lets go of the Japanese man and plops down his seat, shoulders sagging in resignation. “I wouldn’t be here, telling you lies about how I still have to talk to the doctors rather than going back to Gambetta to get some fucking sleep with the rest of you if he didn’t become unexpectedly and strangely important to me. We tried to get rid of him but what did it do us? Huh?” His eyes meet Yuta’s pair of equally tired ones. “Is it any good? Are we in a relatively good shape? Did Invictus magically rise up from its current rate? I messed up _so_ bad.”

Silence falls in between them, eventually veiling the whole room. Taeyong is still asleep, surprisingly unaffected by the sudden noise. It’s probably due to the anesthesia. Jaehyun wouldn’t want to greet the other with yet another commotion.

It’s a minute or two later when Yuta breaks the silence, now completely calmed. “It’s just…” He pauses, trying to rummage his brain for the right words to say. He gives up empty-handed. “I can’t understand it. How could you feel something for someone like _him_?”

“I can’t answer a question I, too, do not understand. I can only accept what’s already here.” Taeyong’s chest rises and falls steadily, and as Jaehyun follows its movement with his eyes, he feels himself calming down, finding peace within himself. “It’s weird, I know. But please,” Yuta meets his gaze and somehow they forget that they were about to lay a hand on each other a few minutes ago. “I’ll make it up to all of you. I’ll talk to Garnet, whenever I can, however I can. Just let me keep Taeyong.”

He receives no response pertaining to his plea, but he knows Yuta has no say in it when it involves something deeper than anything they could fathom. Actually, Jaehyun didn’t need to ask for permission. Because they all know at the end of the day it is Jaehyun’s call that they will follow when it comes to Lee Taeyong. Only Jaehyun can handle him anyway, so he’ll be the one to decide what to do. Yuta is only having a hard time accepting what’s already in front of him.

“Léonie wants to see him.”

Léonie. Right. She was too out of it to see her son earlier, crying her eyes out and pacing back and forth as she prayed to all the gods out there to save the soul of her son which already burned long ago in hell.

“God,” Jaehyun rubs a hand down his face. “I almost forgot about her. Can you please tell her to come here?”

“Sure.” Yuta turns to go, but looks back at the younger when his name was called.

“Thank you.”

A ghost of a smile draws itself on the Japanese shooter’s face before the door clicks as it closes and Jaehyun is alone again. It isn’t long before another presence joins his in watching over the knocked out patient.

 Léonie, with her worn visage and uncombed brown tresses takes the chair that Yuta was occupying and her hand covers Taeyong’s own, rubbing it with the pad of her thumb. Everything about her is too gentle in Jaehyun’s eyes that if he ever receives the touch of a mother Lee Taeyong has been dismissing, he’s sure that he’ll break even more. She’s too gentle to the point that it hurts to watch, and with every stroke of her thumb on Taeyong’s hand, Jaehyun’s heart breaks into a thousand pieces.

_How does it feel to be comforted?_

“Taeyong,”

He watches her as she calls for him in the same, smooth voice, devoid of any signs of age.

“Ethan. If you can hear me, please believe me… I never stopped thinking of you,” Her voice breaks but she continues on as though she was always strong, never weak. “Never stopped wondering where you were. Let’s talk when you wake up, hm?”

Clearing his throat to cut through the sentimental moment, Jaehyun calls her attention. “Léonie. We need to talk.”

Coldness and hollow emptiness fill his chest when the hand covering Taeyong’s disappear. Jaehyun feels like he’d taken away such right and luxury from Taeyong for himself. So he looks away, looks into her eyes instead and tries not to dwell on the pain and longing dancing in her pupils.

 “Is this about how you knew all along and still didn’t tell me?”

“I–“

The broken smile prevents him from explaining. “I forgive you. There must be reasons. No one liked my son; even I used to despise him. I’m just happy you found him.”

Jaehyun nods, glad and speechless from the forgiveness he doesn’t deserve. He changes the subject right away to go on to a more pressing matter – the truth about their way of living and the root cause of this mess. “Then I shall talk about Red Phoenix, Garnet and Invictus. Your late husband, Lee Namgyu was a first-rate mafia boss. You know what a mafia is, I believe? A third-rate group called Dragonaire managed to wipe out Red Phoenix with the help of a traitor, except for me and a few others. I’m originally from Invictus, Red Phoenix’s second-rate subordinate before I joined the organization of your late husband. I…”

He stops, weighing his options. Should he tell her the truth, every detail of his plan to abandon her son and antagonize him just to fulfill his personal wishes? Honestly, he doesn’t have a lot to lose. Léonie has all the right to slap the sense in him.

“I didn’t want him with us,” Slowly, he tells her more. The emotions in her eyes do not change and he takes it as a good sign. “I thought he was a burden. I tried to carry out our plan excluding him, abandoning him when he told me he hated his father for doing it to him, I made him out to be this vile person that would only pull me down. We headed here to talk to Garnet for a partnership, to save what we could of what was left of Red Phoenix. Hell,” Jaehyun chuckles, head shaking as he recalls the absurdity of his actions. “I only took you with us because I thought Taeyong was in Korea and if he saw you, he’d find me eventually and ruin my plans. I didn’t want that. I didn’t want him to do that. Then coincidentally he was here too. Long story short, we clashed. I was trying to get away. But your son…he’s,” His hands move, trying to emphasize and put a stronger volume and impact in his words. “He’s like a shadow, you know. Wherever I am, he’s there. He meant no harm. I judged him. I _demonized_ him. Now we’re here. I’m… I guess what I really wanna say is I’m,” Tears cloud his vision and Jaehyun rapidly blinks them away, refusing to display another episode of weakness. “I’m _very, truly_ sorry. I couldn’t save your husband, your daughter, and I hurt Taeyong. I’d been so far up my own ass – sorry for the language – too focused on myself to listen and understand. I did all of this. I’m sorry.”

“I wish I could say I was surprised with this revelation, about my husband’s job, at least. But I’ve known, I figured out when I was taken by those men…” Trailing off as memories of the past flash across the back of her mind, Léonie breathes deeply, once, twice, and Jaehyun hesitantly rubs her back soothingly, a poor effort at comforting. He’s done a good job, though, because she’s sending him a grateful smile. “Well, they wanted my son, but how would I know where he exactly was? He disappeared, Namgyu had taken him away and told me not to mind him and appeased us with some money. How would I know Ethan had turned into…into this? But it’s my fault too, right? I let it happen. I wasn’t a good mother.”

“He was with me during that time. Namgyu ordered me to take him away because…because the Dragonaire men was after him for a reason I think I should just keep. I don’t know how you’ll take it.”

“Sir Jaehyun,” She pleads, despairing. “My son is lying unconscious in bed, in the hospital. I think I deserve to know what brought him into that situation. He was….he was a careless boy, much more than that. Uncaring and had a mind of his own. I wouldn’t be surpri–“

“He murdered Dragonaire’s heir.” Jaehyun deadpans. “He wasn’t supposed to but he felt like it.”

Maybe he shouldn’t have said it. Maybe he shouldn’t have mentioned it at all. Léonie looks utterly horrified, her hands trembling as they cover her mouth in shock. But she recovers later with a few deep breaths. It seems like it’s her way of coping up with the terrors.

“That’s just one of many, I suppose. He was under Red Phoenix’s tolerance. It’s mainly the reason why he was picked up by Lee Namgyu’s men. Our world is far more evil than all the demons combined. And we’re not leaving it anytime soon so I guess you just have to play deaf and blind to the things around you.”

Sitting next to each other with nothing else to talk about, they both resort to watching Lee Taeyong who’s still yet to wake up. Jaehyun is starting to think the other’s just enjoying his much needed sleep, or a very talented actor that looks like he’s sleeping on the outside but very much alive on the inside, internally feasting on the conversation he’s been listening to. It’s so Lee Taeyong to find joy at Jaehyun’s expense. He’ll bet when the caramel-head wakes up, the first thing he’d do is talk about his importance that the shooter had mentioned to Yuta. Taeyong will embarrass him in all the ways possible.

Jaehyun is already dreading it.

Right then, a thought comes into his mind. “You’ve mentioned the name Ethan twice. Is it…?”

“It’s his birth name. I wasn’t creative with Korean names and he’s my firstborn so I just told the nurse to name him Ethan because it was the first thing that came to my mind. These nurses…they should avoid asking the mother right after pushing out a human being. I was exhausted, limped like a dried leaf.” The memory of hearing her son’s first cry brings a nostalgic smile on her face, one that looks brighter than the ones she had moments earlier. “I don’t think he’s actually using it. Back then, whenever I called him by his birth name, he’d snarl at me and demand I call him by the name his father gave him. He didn’t know, but he looked up to Namgyu more than he’d ever admit.”  

Taeyong is much more vulnerable, Jaehyun muses. He’s been too focused on his own hostility towards the older that he completely dismissed all possibilities of humanity that the knife thrower ever had. When they met, Taeyong was already a living dead and Jaehyun was too self-centered to understand.

“No, he’s not using that name. Everyone calls him Taeyong.”

“It suits him.”

And once again, they fall into comfortable peace and quiet with only the monotonous beeping of machines echoing against the four walls of the room. A heavy, gnawing feeling desperately reminds Jaehyun of another impending concern that he will inevitably have to face. He grumbles softly, remembering that it’s one of the reasons why Taeyong has gone out of control.

“Léonie, he needs professional help. You’ve only seen a small percentage of it. It’s gotten so bad to the point that even I had to use violence to control him. I’m gonna focus on Invictus and I can’t be there for him all the time.”

“I know.” Her hand returns to cup Taeyong’s, and she leans to give it a kiss. When she continues to talk, her eyes don’t look at Jaehyun, only observing the rarity of peace and calm on her son. Love, adoration, guilt and regret drip from her eyes, and Jaehyun understands. As much as she’s changed, her negligence and lack of care from the past brought up a troubled man. “I trust you to do whatever you think is good for him. But none of those that will give him pain, alright?”

Jaehyun nods, looking down in guilt. “I still have to convince him again, though. Because If I force him, then we’ll have a reprise of what transpired prior to this. He’s just going to do everything in his power to defy me. And when I say everything in his power, it’s endless.”

“It sounds like you’ve gone through a lot with him that it makes me feel a little jealous, since you’ve seen the best and worst of my son, something that I took advantage of.” Her words are meant to be taken in jest, but it still pricks something inside of him.

A laugh of embarrassment bubbles up from his chest, coupled with the red dusting his cheeks. Embarrassed? Jaehyun needs to reevaluate it. It’s more like…. _mortified._ Léonie is right. Jaehyun has seen the best of Lee Taeyong, but not in the way she expects. _God,_ why did he have to think of _those_ intimacies they shared in such time? He needs sleep. He badly needs it.

“Uh, not really. But the few things we went through are enough to tell me I can never remove him from my life.”

Her question takes him off-guard. “Do you want to?”

“What?”

“To get away from him. Do you still want to?”

Taeyong looks so gentle and incapable of hurting a fly at the moment that Jaehyun wants to laugh. If the other was fine, out of the hospital bed and kicking, doing what he’s used to do and in his natural element, then Jaehyun would have to consider Léonie’s question again. But Jaehyun has realized he was stupid and even if Lee Taeyong was never hurt, even if Lee Taeyong was out committing cold blood murder, Jaehyun would still find himself falling into the other’s trap, no matter how far he runs.

“Even if I do it over and over, I know I’ll still be concerning myself with him. Taeyong is a magnet. A dangerous magnet I can’t separate myself from.” He doesn’t know what it is that made him look at her but when he does, Jaehyun wishes he never let his unconscious reflexes take the best of him. “What… why are you smiling?”

“He needs you.” Léonie says with a matter-of-fact tone. “Actually, I think you both need each other. I’ve seen so much before in my own time to doubt what I’m seeing.”

Thunder claps in his heart, roaring and overwhelming. She saw through him so easily, like he was an open book _begging_ to be read, to be analyzed. Jaehyun anxiously scratches his cheek as he tries to come up with an excuse. Léonie beats him to his plan, patting his arm.

“It’s okay. You’ll figure it out. You’re a wise man, sir Jaehyun. A wise man commits a mistake for he’s still human, and to err is natural, but a wise man learns from the same mistake to correct it through a way he knows best.”

Jaehyun watches her lean over, resting the upper part of her body on the bed. Her folded arms serve as a pillow to her head and then the blue eyes that used to be dull are now radiant as a new light, catching a sparkle when she looks at her son before they close to give them a rest.

“You know what he needs most. Please give it to him.”

He knows it. She didn’t need to say it. Jaehyun knows what Taeyong needs. The thing is, is Taeyong willing to accept it? Is Jaehyun capable of providing it?

 _Horrifying_.

That’s the only thing he could pluck from his wilting mind. Whatever he’s harboring for the older is an uncharted territory, never been seen, never been felt. But it’s only one of the many things Jaehyun will discover once he decides it’s worth knowing.

And he will. He will.

 

0o0o0

 

A new year has come.

What he sees in front of him is a vast difference from what he saw when two strange men took him from the club that night. Red Phoenix was glorious, screaming wealth and power and status. It sored high, taller than anyone that he remembered widening his eyes as it adjusted through the glaring darkness just to catch a glimpse where the rooftop ended. He was most likely exaggerating it. He was just 19, clueless of his father’s whereabouts, of his father’s nature, and enraged from the murder he just committed.

To him, Red Phoenix was a classy prison cell.

Invictus is new to him – new in every aspect starting from its appearance. Its size doesn’t compare, its aura doesn’t compare but a new year has come, and what stands before him is his new prison cell, downgraded and less extravagant.

The sound of the car door closing makes his head ache even more. An SUV, the one that picked them up from the airport drives past them. Taeyong follows Jaehyun past automatic glass doors, one hand touching his still healing abdomen. His pace is slow and as much as he wants to keep the weakness from showing, Taeyong still aches all over like he was ran over and flipped countless times. It’s probably the long flight and cramped muscles.

 _Well it’s a good thing they got centralized air-condition,_ his mind says when they continue to walk down the corridor looking too unfamiliar to him. It’s his first time stepping into Invictus and wide, curious eyes roam around before landing on the wide back of Jung Jaehyun.

They’ve stopped walking. Taeyong didn’t even notice.

_What a distraction._

“Hey,” Jaehyun is now looking at him, seriousness and all. It almost looks funny to Taeyong because it reeks of professionalism and authority and he can’t mess up in here since it’s not exactly his territory. Damn, he does miss Red Phoenix – quite a bit. “We should talk later, after I meet my father.”

“Sure.” His own voice sounds gravelly. “Where do you want me to stay?”

Taeyong is already looking around once again, ignoring a few curious stares from Invictus employees when Doyoung makes an entrance, the former Red Phoenix Gold card stopping in his tracks at the sight of the two men. The rest of the squad and Léonie had returned to Korea a few days earlier with Jaehyun’s insistence to stay with the caramel-head until the latter was allowed to go. They’ve already spared him the hell of breaking all the news to his father, tearing a few thorns from his throat.

“Doyoung?”

The owner of the name sighs, approaching. “Let me guess. You need me to babysit.”

A sound of a finger snapping takes both of their attention. Taeyong has a blank look on his face, like the usual, as he stares Doyoung right in the eyes. “Tell me if you want me to attack you or something. I can’t detect the urge since I’m _sick_ , nanny. Take care of me, will ya? Heh.” Then his mouth curves into a smile, empty of genuine excitement. His hand only leaves his side to wipe the bead of sweat on his temple.

Odd. It’s not even remotely hot inside the building.

Jaehyun ignores the other’s abnormality. “I’ve already alerted everyone about him. So take him to my room first and _stay_ with him, Doyoung. We can’t let him wander while unstable.”

He receives a snort at that. “How thoughtful of you. Am I allowed to see Léonie? I believe we have yet to settle our _misunderstandings._ ” The word rolls off his tongue with malice and if Jaehyun didn’t know the man next to him, he’d think Taeyong was serious. The man is trying to irk him.

“I’ll let you talk to her once you’re fine.” Jaehyun then turns to Doyoung who wears boredom all over his face. “Go now. I got a battle to fight with my father.”

“Sounds hot,” Jaehyun is already walking away as Taeyong speaks. “Meet me when you want to de-stress!”

“Come here.” A strong hand wraps around his arm and begins to pull him to an adjacent hallway.

Taeyong hisses. “Be careful! Fuckin’ Bugs Bunny.”

Doyoung doesn’t loosen the grip around his arm. Taeyong keeps his mouth shut instead, no energy to fight it off as they both get into an elevator. It stops too soon at the third floor where the sleeping quarters are, not giving Taeyong some time to let his mind wander – it won’t be going very far anyway since he has no knowledge of the place.

Letting the other drag him, Taeyong resorts to counting the steps – from the elevator to the room wherever he’s going to be taken – just in case. Even back in Red Phoenix, he had memorized the number of steps it’d take anyone from a certain place to another. For example, the distance of the elevator at the end of the hall in the 5th floor and the torture chamber is 30 steps. All of this comes in handy for someone like Taeyong, especially when he doesn’t want people catching him when he escapes an important meeting, or when an enemy is right on his tail. It buys him time and a whole lot more that only he will benefit anyway, thanks to his…unique mindset.

Stopping in front of a gray door, the numbers in his head stop counting as well as though on cue. 25 steps. Doyoung enters a code that Taeyong frowns upon when the lock deactivates with a soft click. _Jaehyun gave his password to this nerd twig? Outrageous. We have to talk about that._

“As much as we both hate this, I really can’t disobey Jaehyun. I also wouldn’t want to see you wreak havoc on your first day here, especially when he’s out to beg his father to let you stay. You’re special, aren’t you?”

The bed is not as soft as the one he had in Red Phoenix. Taeyong bounces slightly, testing it before scooting ‘til the headboard with his back pressed on it. “Oh boohoo, Kim Doyoung. You could fuck me up in here and still, you wouldn’t feel an ounce of regret. Because when Jaehyun sees my beat state, caused by you, there’s no one else to blame but me, am I correct?” The taunting grin on his face aggravates the other, as seen by the sudden trembling of Doyoung’s fists. “But that won’t happen. Because before you could even think of doing it, I’d already have your head rolling down the fuckin’ stairs. So quit hating me, you know that won’t amount to anything. And please,” He beckons the other to sit which Doyoung surprisingly follows, taking the swivel chair by the desk. “He begged as well when he brought his little squad back in this second-rate org. Don’t make me think you’re being a jackass jealous girlfriend now, Doyoung.”

The insinuation makes Doyoung’s eyes widen as he splutters a bit, quickly wiping off the spit on the corner of his mouth. “What the hell? Listen, I’m not gay and even if I was, I wouldn’t be getting it on with anyone within the squad, Get that through your rotten skull, okay?”

“Cool.” Taeyong folds up his legs and ignores the protest from his injury as he hunches forward to wrap both arms around his legs, not taking his eyes away from Doyoung. “You’re not supposed to take what’s mine.”

“Gross. I’m not about the homosexual life.”

With a nettling giggle, Taeyong provokes once more, “How homophobic of you, Kim. Who knows, when you have a penchant for great, strong authoritative figures.”

“What–“

“Shh. Your secret is safe with me. The way you looked at those businessmen that dropped by for meetings with Lee Namgyu? Tch. It’s okay. We’re all allowed to appreciate.”

Doyoung is already pissed beyond anything, but he can never act on it. If he was Yuta, then he would probably land a punch of two on the other’s ungodly handsome face, consequences be damned. But he’s not the Japanese man and he wasn’t very much trained with combat. Deep breaths are all he can afford at the moment until Jaehyun comes back. God, he’s already getting impatient.

Amidst the internal debate whether remaining in the same room as the insufferable man is worth it or he could disappoint Jaehyun once, Doyoung notices something. Taeyong is sweating so much when it’s not even _that_ warm inside the room. Hell, winter isn’t even over yet.

“Hey, are you sick? You shouldn’t really hunch like that, it’s triggering your injury.”

“I’m fucking healing. Give me another week, Kim. And it’s just… I don’t even fucking know. I’m fine. It’s just sweat.”

“You’re sweating in winter.”

“So?” Taeyong flashes a deathly glare. “What is it to you? All about me is fuckin’ weird. Now hop off my dick and keep quiet.”

Keeping quiet is what Doyoung does. There’s no point in giving a damn about Lee Taeyong when the other clearly doesn’t need an ounce of it. Except maybe if it’s coming from Jung Jaehyun. _What a weird pair._ Doyoung guesses he just has to get through this and pray Jaehyun recovers from his daddy issues because if he stays a little longer in the same room with Lee Taeyong, breathing the same air as him, then he might as well turn into another psycho.

 

***

Jaehyun stands before the double doors, willing his rapid heartbeat to calm down. As he does it, he rehearses in his mind all the things he has to say to his father – that is _,_ if he’s lucky enough to be able to relay everything. Behind the doors is the man about to hear another failure from him, and perhaps feel another wave of stress. He’s lucky if he doesn’t get thrown out by the end of the day.

How merciless. Taeyong and he just landed from that 11-hour flight and he wasn’t even given a few minutes of rest.

“This is it,” A pound of courage on his chest. “For Invictus and…Taeyong. I guess.”

The Invictus heir finally enters the room, opting to greet his father to somehow alleviate the other’s impending anger but he’s a second too late as a rough hand lands heavily against his cheek, leaving a sharp pulsating sting on the left side of his face.

“I gave you another chance.” Jung Heejun’s voice booms throughout the conference room. It’s only then that Jaehyun realizes his father’s in the middle of a discussion with someone he doesn’t know but looks important enough not be embarrassed like this, witnessing a family dispute. “But you wasted it. _Again._ What do you want to do, Jaehyun? You wasted a shitload of money for Lee Namgyu’s insane son?” The old man’s voice teeters from rage that Jaehyun could literally feel it radiate from his father. After giving a curt glimpse at the visitor, he pulls Heejun to the side then speaks in hushed, frustrated whispers. It’s already too embarrassing that someone has seen him get slapped, but it’s another thing for someone to overhear about how he had exactly failed his mission.

“Don’t call him that, father. He’s not insane.”

“Huh.” Heejun gives him a look of mockery. “What now? Did you head to France for leisure? Recreation? I’m never going to let you handle things ever again. So much promises, Jaehyun. You talked highly of these Red Phoenix friends I took in like homeless kittens but still, with a group of six, you failed it? What’s the point of having Red Phoenix in your name? You gave me false hopes.”

All of it is true and every single word that came out of his father’s mouth is like dagger impaling in his chest, slicing through his heartstrings and cutting them off.  But he doesn’t have time to dwell on the past, to dwell on the regrets. Today is another day and it means another chance. It should mean another chance.

Jaehyun sighs. “Hear me out, dad. One last time.”

“You said it before too. One last time.” Mock drips from his father’s tone until Heejun scoffs and pins him a hard look, straightening the cream suit. “Say it.”

He cuts to the chase. “I’ll keep Lee Taeyong for a bit. You don’t need to worry about him, okay? I have it under control.” Heejun opens his mouth but Jaehyun quickly interjects. Well, he’s the one already talking. “This time, I have it under control. Trust me, one last time. He won’t roam around; he’ll remain in my room throughout his stay here. Or in the clinic, or if you’re generous enough we can have him take another room-“

“Do whatever you want.”

“Right. He’s yet to completely heal. About Garnet… Give me one more chance, dad. I’ll head back to France. I don’t know when, but I will. Just please let me do this.” Desperation laces in every word he says and if he was the same as before, Jaehyun would be too prideful to beg. This time, though, even if his father asks him to kneel on a field of thorns, he’d do it. He can’t be self-centered anymore.

Heejun glimpses back at the neglected visitor, gesturing to give him a few minutes. “I don’t really get what’s going on in that head of yours. You’ve gotten too…dramatic. Just like before. Too compassionate for this. I told you that would be your weakness. You give nothing but disappointment. You proved, yet again, how much of a failure you are.” Heejun stresses it, stresses the harsh facts on Jaehyun’s face. “I shouldn’t have accepted you back and just let you pick yourself up from scratch.”

 _Give up,_ his mind chants. _Do what’s right,_ his heart orders. Jaehyun waits for his father, watches the older man rub his temple.

“But this last chance I’m giving you is the last one I have for everybody else in here.”

Relief washes over him like a fresh batch of rain, a wild storm all too welcome to happen. It must have shown in his face because his father’s own features softened in the slightest, like he suddenly feels the burden and expectations and sufferings he brought on his own son.

“Thank you,” Jaehyun exhales, nodding. “Thank you, dad.”

Heejun shakes his head. “For the meantime, you have no control with the local business. You’ll be here as nothing but a decoration and if the need arises, I’ll have you and your friends out in the open for the dirty work. Fix your mess, Jaehyun. And don’t let the extra baggage bring us problems because I won’t be as forgiving. We are not a charity.”

Lee Taeyong is absolutely not a charity case, just in need of support. Though he won’t say that to his father. It sounds too sentimental, not any of their concern.

With one last look at Heejun, and not even one spared at their visitor, Jaehyun leaves the conference room and heads straight to his room, a brow rising in question at the sight of both men acting like the plague to each other.

“Uh…”

Doyoung beats him. “I see you’re in one piece. Thank…Jesus, right? See how relieved I am? Because one, you’re alive and two, I can finally get out of here. It’s become deeply suffocating.” He can feel the burning glare on the back of his head. “I take it that it went well?”

A sigh escapes him before Jaehyun sits on the edge of his bed, still giving Taeyong’s hunched form a weird look. “You could say that. I got slapped, though.”

At the mention of someone hurting Jaehyun, Taeyong perks up, alert. His eyes are wide and he stops biting on his nails. “What.”

“What?”

“A motherfucker slapped you? Does this pest know only I can hurt you, Jaehyun?”

“That sounds kinky.”

Taeyong smirks. “It probably is if it does.”

Doyoung feels the beginning of another wave of headache. “Do you still need me here?”

“Well who said I need you earlier? Go. I appreciate the charitable kindness, Nanny Kim.”

The former Gold-card intelligence member gives the knife thrower a stink eye. “Keep an eye on him, Jaehyun. He’s unfit for normalcy in here.”

The door closes louder than intended, making Jaehyun flinch.

“Doyoung is weird, isn’t he? Normalcy. What kind of bullshit is that?” With the absence of a third party, Taeyong continues his habit of nail biting, though his form seems more relaxed now than he was with Doyoung. “So I have to stay here from now on? I’d be doing fine alone back in the house where you so heartlessly left me out.”

Jaehyun ignores the personal jab. “I’ll give you three days to–“

“Asylum.” Taeyong stares. “I know. You still want to lock me up. What good would it do me, Jaehyun? Do you wanna tell me? Or is it another way to get rid of me? You know that won’t work.”

“I’m not getting rid of you.” He gets up, sits on the chair Doyoung was sitting on earlier and clasps his hands together over his stomach, head tilted a little bit to the side as he engages in a stare down contest with Taeyong. “Just… you need help, Taeyong.”

The older grimaces as he shifts, digging his fist on his leg. “I don’t need help. We’ve gone through this already and it didn’t fucking end well. See this?” Taeyong lifts his shirt. “You fucking stabbed me. How could you? You thought I forgot that you tried to kill me, yeah? Then you had the _gall_ to say you like me. Friends don’t kill each other. Friends don’t lock up each other.”

 _Friends._ The mere sound of that word grates annoyingly in Jaehyun’s ears. They both know they’re far from being friends. They’re past that stage. Hell, they didn’t even actually go through it – it was one-sided.

With a click of his tongue, Jaehyun runs his fingers through his hair and parts the strands so Taeyong could see the scabbing wound. “We’ve done that once. See?”

Taeyong wipes his sweat off with the back of his hand. Jaehyun doesn’t miss the hint of discomfort in the other’s hard expression. “Oh? That looks far better than mine, so your argument is invalid. Plus I didn’t mean to hurt you. I was... Hm, what’s the word?” He grins, and then it’s schooled back to nothingness. “Alarmed? Startled? Uh, Jesus H. Christ. I fucking lost that Kel-Tec. That was expensive as shit, if you must know. Did you find Namgyu’s card? It was with me.” Taeyong purses his lips, eyes squinting. “Risa probably took it. That whore.”

“You’re digressing. Back to the topic. Three days and I’ll drop you off at the asylum.” He feels his heart rip, but there is no other way to give Taeyong the assistance he needs. “This is not open for negotiations, I’m afraid. It’s for the better.”

Taeyong’s head lolls back, meeting the cold wall. His eyes are lidded as he gazes at Jaehyun, unreadable. “Do you think I’ll stop hating everyone if I went there?”

“Yes.”

“Do you think I’ll stop being a pain in the ass if I went there?”

Jaehyun nods.

One of the corners of his mouth curves up into a slight smirk. Taeyong then removes his coat, hurls it in the corner of the room together with his shoes and slouches even more. “That’s plausible. I should put some trust on our dear medical practitioners, right? Last question…”

The younger man leans forward, encouraging him to continue.

“Do you think you’ll like me better once I’m not sick anymore?”

It doesn’t show on his face, but Jaehyun’s heart is rapidly beating that he fears for a moment it’s going to burst and Taeyong, freaky Lee Taeyong will be having a field day soaked in his blood. His face feels hot, too. “Do you really want me to answer that? It looks like you already know what I’ll say.”

“I do. And you’re a fuckin’ kill joy. I wanted to hear you say it.” Taeyong scoffs, shifting once again to lie down Jaehyun’s bed, eyes darting up the ceiling. “But anyway. Honestly, I’m tired. Physically and all the other shit that makes up what I am. The thing I hate is they’re gonna fucking tie me down and treat me like an animal.” Their eyes meet again, and how Jaehyun misses looking into those deep, blue eyes. “Have you ever watched documentaries about insane patients, Jaehyun? It’s _terrifying._ ” He says it with such accent that it almost fools Jaehyun. How could Taeyong be terrified? The man fears nothing. He’d swim in a sea of sharks and feel at home with the predators.

Jaehyun won’t be fooled by the act. “You’re not insane. And you’re incapable of fear. Do you need me to tell you how bad of an actor you are when you’re trying to convince me? Is the talent for acting not included in the 220?”

“Gah. You’re overestimating it.” Taeyong glances shortly. “And you’re wrong. When you were bleeding. I got scared, alright. I felt like the world was pummeling me down and it was too dark for me to see like I’d gotten blind for a sec. I wanted to kill myself, but I had some business to do so it got postponed. Anyway, I refuted your claim. I felt fear _once_ and that’s because I thought I was going to lose my one and only friend. Record breaking? Record breaking.”

Up until now, his heart is still drumming so loud he hears it in his ears, pumping so much blood. He ponders over the possibility that Taeyong might feel the same.

If he’ll ever want to feel the same.

“So, you’re in?”

“No. Listen,” The older turns on his good side, pillowing his head with an arm. “I’m a nicotine addict. You think they’d let a fucker in having withdrawals? I know this ain’t negotiable but give me until I’m done detoxifying and throwing up in your bathroom. Which I don’t see in this room – the horror. Ask the midget. He knows what I should take.”

“The–“  

“Then I’ll go to the asylum myself.” Taeyong interrupts.

It’s definitely easier than last time. Probably because Taeyong isn’t drugged – that caused some alters in his mood, worsening it even more than it already is. Jaehyun would also wager it’s due to the lack of triggers, the lack of weapon with him. It’s so easy for Taeyong to inflict pain when something causes him to, gives him all the reason to.

“Wow. That’s,” Jaehyun sits straight, loosening his collar. “Surprisingly easy.”

“It would’ve been easier if you didn’t hide Léonie from me. I would’ve agreed that night, with some wrestling with you, of course. But you had her all along. Not that I was trying to find her anyway, but you could’ve told me.”

Jaehyun’s temple pulses. Here they go again. For how smart Taeyong is, he sure doesn’t get some things as easy as ABC. “How many times am I gonna tell you that I didn’t hide her? She miraculously got here. My father, believe it or not had a heart to take the homeless in, countering what he told me that this isn’t a charity house. The universe is playing with us, Taeyong. That’s how I know no matter what I do, you won’t be going anywhere. Now suck it up. Léonie was looking for you.”

Taeyong hums. “I felt the effort.”

“So you actually did?”

“That was sarcastic. What effort was shown? Have you seen her get out of here to seek me? Dragonaire was even more eager to chase my ass than what the fuck ever she could’ve done.” He curls up then, clutching the sheets with a trembling hand. It doesn’t go unnoticed. “About what you said earlier. I really can’t go anywhere? I can’t roam around?”

“Why would you wanna do that when you were cooped up 24/7 back in Red Phoenix as though you were vampire, too scared of the sun?”

Apparently, it brings joy to the other and now, Taeyong is snickering like a madman. “I totally would pull it off, alright. Me, drinking blood? It’s like my diet.”

The sigh that spills from Jaehyun’s lips intend to tell Taeyong he’s being insufferable again, but Jaehyun guesses nothing ever works for the other to actually understand normal people’s emotions.

For the life of him, his birthday is almost near, but Jaehyun feels like he’s draining of life instead. Not like he ever celebrated it the way other people do.

“You can’t freely roam around, I apologize. No one outside Red Phoenix actually knows what you are like. Red Phoenix members still used to suffer from your wrath even though they knew how to deal with you, what more with the Invictus members? It hasn’t been long since you were revealed in that auction. I could give them a personal account as to how you are like when stressed and triggered and disturbed but I won’t do that. I doubt they’re _that_ interested in you.”

“Ohoho,” A series of chortles rumbles in his chest. “I’m sure you saw how many were very much eager and hungry for me in the auction. Cygnus blew off their money just like that for me. Speaking of that, do you think they’re going to be adamant in getting their money’s worth? Ka-ching.”  

“I hope not. The message was clear. Alright, so if you need some sun, you vampire, I’ll accompany you in the back. But aside from here, the bathroom, and in the outside lot, you can’t go anywhere. I’m just taking precautions.”

A pout forms on Lee Taeyong’s lips. God clearly has no mercy on Jaehyun today. “You’re treating me like an animal, Jaehyun. The only difference is, I’m in a bigger cage than last time.” He continues to whine, even kicking his feet. “This is so sad, Jaehyun. What did I ever do to you?”

“You know that’s not true.” The Invictus heir finally gets the courage to stand and divert his eyes from the….strangely adorable sight. “Do you want something to eat? Not me.”

That starts another bout of laughter from Taeyong, his eyes glinting brighter. “Asshole. Don’t flatter yourself. I want chocolates.”

“Léonie cooks French food. I’ll bring you some.”

“Do you lock the door from the outside?”

Jaehyun turns the knob and opens the door, slipping out halfway. “Yes. So behave yourself.”

When the door closes, Taeyong turns on his back, azure eyes glued to the ceiling. This is the only time he’s had to reflect on all of the things that transpired ever since the gala, the death of Moon Taeil and the unfortunate injury on his flank. Suddenly, everything feels like it never happened, like it was all just a dream because he’s here with Jung Jaehyun and the rest, like he was never planning to ruin Jaehyun, like the other never wanted to hurt him. He’s here like nothing was wrong and he wasn’t on the brink of death.

 _What changed overnight?_ When he woke up at the hospital, Jaehyun was quick to ask him what he needed, holding his hand so damn gently like he was fragile china. His blood was still on the younger’s clothes, he noticed that Jaehyun was wearing the same suit he wore at the auction, the same suit that was stained with viscous metallic red. He didn’t even sleep and for what?? For the sake of watching over him?

Taeyong wants to laugh. He wants to laugh.

So he does. In the room all too unfamiliar, mattress significantly different from what he slept on for seven years, in the middle of coldness, Taeyong laughs. Loud, boisterous, crazy.

He asked Jaehyun if the other liked him. Taeyong felt jubilant even during the stare down with death. Jaehyun likes him. They’re friends now, right? Jaehyun thinks they’re friends. After all, Jaehyun actually sees him as a friend. What an unhealthy friendship. He likes Jaehyun too. He definitely does.

So what now? After saying it out loud, right on his face, is he expected to change his ways? Is he supposed to be more…more human now? Kind, thoughtful, sweet? Even just thinking of those words makes Taeyong want to retch; he can feel the bile rising up his throat. Sure, he wanted friends when he was young. But they couldn’t be the friends he wanted. Jaehyun can’t be the type of friend he wanted. Jaehyun is normal. Taeyong doesn’t want normal.

Or does he? He’s tired, tired of loathing, tired of living in isolation. He wants Jaehyun by his side, but this is hard, this is foreign, this is unknown. He can call it friendship all he wants, but deep down, Taeyong knows better. But how is it possible? How is it possible for someone like him to feel something so raw, something so…addicting?

The word creeps up from the base of his tongue. Taeyong bites it down until it bleeds and the blood flows in his mouth and down the column of his throat. There’s no way he’s going to let it out. There’s no way he’s going to let it be known, be seen. He doesn’t do love, for fuck’s sake.

Yet…it’s there.

Taeyong stops laughing. The door opens and Jaehyun appears, carrying a tray of something that makes him instantly forget.

“Uh,” Jaehyun sets the tray on the desk, brows knitted. “Pissaladiére pasta…?”

 The knife thrower suddenly sits up straight, wide eyes gawking on the plate before reaching for it, only for his hand to be swatted away. Right. He can’t use the damn fork.

“ _Es-tu sérieux? C’est mon préféré!”_

The sudden influx of French worsens the ache in Jaehyun’s head. “I’ll take that as you like it. You look excited.”

Taeyong’s eyes don’t tear away from the food while he rubs his assaulted hand. “It’s been a while since I ate something homey. Feed me.”

Even if he doesn’t say it, Jaehyun really intends to feed him. They don’t have plastic forks. He takes the plate and twirls the pasta before holding it out, which Taeyong obediently eats, chewing noisily. He’s immune to it now. “So you know what a home is.”

Gathering the sauce from his lip and sucking the finger clean, Taeyong shrugs. “Just an idea. I never had it. One more?” He holds up an index and instantly puts it down when the same hand twitches.

Jaehyun stares at the other for a few seconds before feeding Taeyong again. It’s the first time he’s seen the older man eat so eagerly since he was told that Taeyong’s usual diet is the sweets from the vending machine. “Taeyong, are you getting restless again?”

No response, just more demands to be fed. Jaehyun fills Taeyong’s awaiting mouth over and over until the plate is clean before handing him a juice box. Strawberry flavored.

“Finish the juice. I’ll ask the clinic for medicines. I can’t…even if you beg, you know I won’t give it, right? No more cigarettes.”

“I know.” Taeyong empties the box and crumples it, putting it back on the tray before leaning against the headboard, kicking the blanket off of the mattress with a few curses. “Let me just–let me lie down. The last time I smoked was the night you knifed me. Damn it’s been an eternity, fuck.” The caramel-head wheezes before sliding down, curled in a fetal position. “It fucking hurts all over.”

Worry surges through Jaehyun, running into his system like blood. “Do you want me to bring you to the clinic instead?”

How does one care for the ill, anyway? Jaehyun never did it for his mother. When he got sick, he took medicines and recovered right away. This is different. He doesn’t fucking know how to deal with withdrawals.

He receives a shake of the head. “I’m fine here. Just get me a basin or something for the puke and whatever they fuck they got for this.”

He’s never ran a marathon before but Jaehyun sprints down the clinic, foregoing the elevator and hopping down several steps on the staircase since it’s closer. When he barges in the clinic, Ten is there with the doctor, writing down on a clipboard.

“Jaehyun, I should be saying welcome back but what the hell? Why do you look like you’re burning your lungs?” The nurse puts the clipboard down, excusing himself to approach the Invictus heir who’s still chasing his own breath.

“Ten, the withdrawal is kicking in. It’s been days, more than a week since he last smoked. He was sedated most of the time in the hospital so it didn’t happen. I don’t know what he needs but I suppose we have that here?”

Without wasting a second, Ten opens one of the cabinets, taking a few things and dumping them in Jaehyun’s palms. “Nicotine gums. It calms cravings and reduces anxiety. If it doesn’t work, give him the inhaler or the nasal spray. Make him take this,” He points to one tablet, “Bupropion. You know how medicines work. It’s both a smoking cessation aid and antidepressant.” Ten glances at the doctor and gets a thumb up, resulting to a smug smile on his face when he turns back to Jaehyun. “Make sure he takes those only when he feels like smoking and all the symptoms are full-on kicking in. As much as he was a chain smoker, I don’t think he used up more than 10 in a day so he can’t do some cold turkey. It’ll be worse in his case.”

Jaehyun distractedly inspects everything he’s holding, shaking his head. “What do I need to know about this?”

“Anxiety, nausea, depression, insomnia, coughing, cramps, constipation, sweating, tingles, headache and irritability. It can last up to weeks, Jaehyun. You also have to make him eat regularly since his appetite is turning back to normal.” Ten reaches for the clipboard and scribbles. “Doyoung dropped by. He said something about you keeping Taeyong in the room. Don’t do that. You won’t know what a potentially depressed person is capable of doing. It’s crucial from this point on. I guess you have to be with him 24/7 if you can. I doubt he wants to be checked up by me?” Ten looks up just as Jaehyun shakes his head again. “Understood. That’s a very hardheaded man. The isolation and darkness won’t help him.”

“Alright. Fuck, that’s a lot to take. You got basin?” Jaehyun walks further inside and gratefully accepts the basin and towel from the doctor before putting the boxes of gums and others in it. “It sounds like nightmare.”

“It is. I don’t know how long he’s been a smoker. Just look out for him. As much as I still feel uncertain about this whole arrangement, no one wants to suffer through a withdrawal.” The nurse puts the clipboard down and scratches at his brow. “Come to us whenever you need a break.”

“Of course, of course. I gotta go back now. Thanks, Ten.”

“Sure.”

He sees Jaehyun out. Ten sighs as he thinks of what awaits them now that Taeyong is in Invictus and it all feels like Red Phoenix again. Maybe he shouldn’t worry so much. Jaehyun seems like he’s going to be a very good personal nurse.

The door closes with a bang that it makes Taeyong flinch from the noise and hurl the pillow at Jaehyun, who in turn drops the basin and whatnots in it.

“Taeyong!”

“Fucking asshole! Close the motherfuckin’ door like you’re in a library and I’m a fuckin’ librarian about to fucking shush you down! Goddammit!” He’s shirtless now, and thank goodness he has his pants on. Jaehyun picks up what he dropped and hands Taeyong the water he snatched from the canteen.

“Alright, fine, I’m sorry. Here.” Jaehyun puts a gum on Taeyong’s palm which the latter quickly pops in his mouth. “You have to eat regularly now. Don’t worry, I’ll have Léonie cook all the good food for you. With a side of a chocolate bar? You like that?”

Frantically, Jaehyun rummages his closet for a fresh shirt and raises it to his eye-level. “Does this fit you? Why are you sweating so much?” He turns around, checking the heater. “Oh it’s too warm for you…”

“Calm the fuck down, Jaehyun. I’m not dying.”

“But you’re suffering!”

“You make it sound like I’m helpless. Fucking sit down and give me that shirt. I fucking hate seeing the bandage over my tattoos.”

Jaehyun finally listens, handing over the shirt. Taeyong struggles quite, but manages to put it on without wincing. “We need to redress the bandage until the end of the week.”

“Then have Ten do it here. I’m not going down to the clinic. Be thankful you didn’t stab me deep, hm.” Taeyong hums, chewing while his forearm rests over his eyes, blocking any hint of light. Jaehyun takes it upon himself to wipe down the older’s neck and chest with the towel. There is no resistance from Taeyong.

It seems like the restlessness has transferred to him that he can’t keep still, walking here and there while watching the man in his bed. “Are you gonna be vulnerable to depression? Anxiety? Ten told me a lot of things.”

“I don’t think so. I’m gonna be clearheaded as much as possible. But–“ Jaehyun flinches visibly when Taeyong jerks and pukes in the basin on the floor, next to the bed. It’s extremely gross, but he has to watch if ever something alarming happens. Thankfully, there’s none. Taeyong wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and chugs down the water.

“Fuck.” His voice is hoarse and shaky. “It’s been a while since I had my insides try to tear their way out of me.”  

“That’s wild.”

“You get your kicks from my vomit? I wouldn’t put anything past you anymore, Jaehyun. That’s very outlandish.” Taeyong chuckles. “I just realized I drank the remnants of it. Come to think of it, when was the last time I kissed you?”

Red is the color of Jaehyun’s cheeks when he cups them, slack-jawed. “The last time. At the gala? And why is that important now?” The heir scoffs at the sight of Lee Taeyong chuckling. “Ten didn’t tell me that when you’re having withdrawals, you’d be this playful.”

Distracted by the strands of hair sticking on Taeyong’s forehead, Jaehyun reaches over to brush them off, feeling frustrated when the hair sticks back to the skin. In the end he puts a band on Taeyong’s head instead. He didn’t even know he still had it. It’s the band he frequently used when he dropped by the gym.

The other’s breathing slowly turns normal. Jaehyun picks up the discarded shirt and coat before arranging the shoes at the side and dumps the pieces of clothing in the small hamper. “You should sleep for a little, Taeyong. When you wake up, I’ll take you outside. How long do you think you’re going to be out?”

“I’m thinking four. I’m beat.”

Jaehyun pulls out his phone to set an alarm. “Four?”

“Longer than that. You can go, I’m gonna be out like a light. Just lock the door.”

“Are you sure?”

Taeyong slaps a hand on the desk, reaching for a tablet. “I won’t trust me no matter what, Jaehyun. Go and let me sleep in peace. I can survive the cramps and all the fuckin’ irritation I’ve been having since day one.”

“Right. You got the phone I gave you before we landed. Call me if you need anything.” Jaehyun looks at the other for a few seconds before slipping out of the room, heading straight to the clinic.

He finds Ten. The doctor is not inside when he enters. “Hey, this feels like our first squad get-together. Should we call the others?”

“Sure.” The nurse walks here and there, organizing. “This is more boring than I remember. Not even a patient for stomachaches? And the only one we have, withdrawals, doesn’t even wanna come in.”

“Preferences.” His phone pings once the message is sent to the group chat, quickly seen by Doyoung. “I already messaged them.” He then plops on the couch, legs stretched atop the small table in front.

Not even a second later the door slides open and in comes Johnny, looking all too happy. “Hey Jaehyun!”

“Did you pull a Shazam? I just sent a message and you’re already here.”

The tall man gives him a what-the-fuck look, before filling the space next to him. “If you’re talking about how fast I got here, then I think you mean I pulled a The Flash. Anyway, no, I was already on the way here. Hi Ten!”

“Hi, baby.” Ten leaves over, lips puckered exaggeratedly.

The sound of lips smacking makes Jaehyun cringe too hard, face contorted in disgust. “Great! Couples. Are Yuta and Winwin pulling a Johnny and Ten? You know, being casual fuck buddies before admitting.”

Shivers run down his spine at the way Ten glares at him. “I don’t know; you’re the one who outed them both. And we’re a concept now? You brat.” A sounding slap on Jaehyun’s head fills the whole clinic. “I’m not exactly pulling a gossip girl like you all used to, so I don’t know about their relationship progress.”

Jaehyun absolutely looks like he took a personal offense from the nurse’s statement, clutching his chest. “Did you just–“

He doesn’t get to finish his question when the rest enter the clinic. “Speak of the devil.”

“I’m not a devil and _please,_ my head hurts I think I got a migraine.” Doyoung groans, rubbing his temple as he sits on the armrest of the couch. Yuta and Winwin, the suspected couple, sit together on the other available chairs and Jaehyun has to squint on their direction. No one notices.  

Ten rejoices, hopping away from Johnny to get medicines. “Fantastic! A patient, finally!”

The single tablet lands on Doyoung’s palm accurately and the man swallows it dry, rejecting the bottle of water from Ten. “How morbid of you to feel happy at someone’s expense. I’m in pain.”

“That’s the thing.” The nurse finds himself right on Johnny’s lap and only Jaehyun grumbles, earning another slap on the head. “I need people hurting to actually function. You’re welcome!”

“What is this for?”

Jaehyun smirks at Yuta. “Did we bother your sleep or something else?”

“Let it go it happened once.”

“Nothing more?”

“Can we not talk about my sex life?” Sicheng calmly asks while busy playing a game on a tablet. The gadget has Invictus’ name on it in the back. Right, they need new phones officially distributed and connected to the organization’s system.

Johnny grins. “Since you asked so nicely.”

“Thank you.”

“So,” The smell of medicines and other chemicals just doesn’t sit well with Jaehyun, etching a line on his forehead. “What happened in the two days I wasn’t here?”

Doyoung, ever so serious and composed, supplements Jaehyun with the information in his usual bored tone. “Nothing much? We talked to your father, explained most of it. He couldn’t lash out on us, you know. We’re strangers to him.”

A snort comes out of the sharpshooter. “Yeah, he’d rather beat his son than anyone.”

“Question.” The arsonist raises a hand, eyes not leaving the game. “Why is our official meeting place the clinic?”

“Because,” Ten sing-songs. “I don’t want to go out and all of you will listen to me when I say all of you are coming here?”

Sicheng casts a second-long glance at him before turning back to his game, murmuring something that sounds a lot like “point taken.”

“That’s the only point to take. Anyway, Jaehyun,” The attention is back on him. “How’s the patient in your room?”

Johnny perks up from behind Ten, resting his chin on the nurse’s shoulder. “You got a patient? What?”

His chest feels like it’s caving in once again as he thinks back to the man cooped up in his room. Jaehyun wonders if Taeyong’s doing just fine. “It’s Taeyong. He’s having withdrawals. He has to stop the nicotine intake before I take him to the asylum.”

Doyoung raises a brow. “So he’s finally going?”

“Surprisingly. He said he’s tired.”

“Weird.” Yuta makes an eye contact with Jaehyun. “He gets tired?”

With a slow nod Jaehyun confirms it, just basing the answer from what Taeyong told him. “Apparently. I’m giving him until the withdrawal is over before he gets in. He’s actually fine with it, just not feeling the whole tied down thing.”

“Well,” Doyoung gets up, sidestepping the small table in the middle to cross the room and grab a bottled water from the mini fridge, to which Ten relays his protest, saying something about the other’s audacity to reject his earlier offer. “He’ll only get tied down if he gets out of control – which is not impossible. Have you talked to him about the plans with Garnet?”

The question makes Jaehyun frown, absently tapping the scabbing wound on his head. Ten berates him. “No? I don’t think he necessarily needs to know if he doesn’t care about it. Plus I need to think of a way to get in? Taeyong really can’t say no, though, this is going to be beneficial to us. To all of us.”

Doyoung quickly chugs the water, dumping the empty bottle in the bin. “Just try again and mention Red Phoenix. If they were as close as we thought, then mention Lee Taeyong too. Everybody knows now that the heir exists. Now that Moon Taeil is completely gone, thank God, Fort should know there had been something fishy going on. Garnet should know about the heir. But,” The former Gold card drawls, tapping his fingers on his thigh. “It isn’t guaranteed that it’ll be successful, Jaehyun. Garnet may be enlightened, but they’re already working with Casanov.”

Jaehyun shrugs, lips pursed. “Then we have to make them stop working with Casanov.”

“Basic. Would you need us again with you?” Ten asks, mindlessly playing with Johnny’s hands. Jaehyun doesn’t know why he feels irked; he knows it’s not because of the public display of affection, but each time he sees it, it makes him want to do the same to a certain person – which is as impossible as touching the sky with his bare hands.

“I don’t know. Dad chastised me about the money spent. It wasn’t even _that_ expensive. The whole stay? The house in Gambetta was free. I might take one or two with me when I get back, though.”

“He might be talking about the jet and all the weapons. That’s a private jet and he booked private staff that will shut their mouths around people like us. It could’ve been ignored, but we returned empty-handed. You also paid that hospital a hefty amount.” Yuta explained with a few yawns in between, leaning his body against Winwin’s side.

“The stock in the hideout can replace those weapons…”

They grow quiet after that. Jaehyun takes his time to observe his squad and promptly remembers he hasn’t thanked them personally yet for supporting him and going through it all…only to reach the end of the battle without a trophy.

He needs to go back. He needs to get that trophy.

“Jaehyun,” Johnny’s voice cuts through the comfortable silence, carrying a faint weight of worry. “We made a scene in France. At the auction. Are we safe?”

“We should be.” He assures, sounding very much certain. “No one knows it was us who ruined the whole thing.”

Before Johnny can even think of a response, Doyoung is already chiming in. “Why do I feel like we’re not assured by that.”

That slightly sets him off, but he keeps it in. Besides, he’s not going to deny them of voicing their real opinions especially when their lives are concerned. “Come on, guys. They have to search the whole world to find whoever fucked them up.”

“And once they find us?”

Jaehyun looks at Sicheng, the latter now putting the tablet down.

“Then we’ll do everything _but_ run away.”

“That’s the spirit!” The loudest voice booms throughout the clinic and even Ten, most especially Ten picks his ear while cursing at Johnny. The annoyance from every single one of them doesn’t deter the other, though. “I totally could’ve pulled that off if it was Halloween…”

The nurse gets off his boyfriend’s lap to sit on the armrest instead. “You’re so lame.”

“Okay but you like me.”

Yuta groans, childishly kicking his legs. “Is it our cue to leave? Tell me it’s our cue to leave.”

“No! I’m hungry. Let’s all eat something? Can we call someone to bring snacks?” Ten faces Jaehyun, batting his eyelashes prettily that the younger almost gags.

 _God._ They’re all criminals but why are his friends so damn ~~cute~~ childish sometimes? He’s not complaining, though – just sharing a unique way of appreciation.

“Sure.” Jaehyun gets up and presses a button on the wall to speak through the intercom directly connected to the kitchen. “No, not heavy meals. Just please get something from the vending machine. And drinks. Six. Thank you.”

“Jaehyun! I suddenly remembered I told you to be with Taeyong 24/7. Obviously you can’t do that but you left him right away. Not _really_ right away but you get me.”

Great. He will never get away from _him_ ever again, huh?

But because of an obvious reason still kept in the closet, Jaehyun doesn’t mind it.

“He’s sleeping and the door is locked. He’s literally falling asleep when I left. Four hours.” He pulls out his phone and shows the alarm set less than four hours from now. “See? He asked me to come back by then.”

“How cute,” The eyebrow wiggle from Johnny makes him want to shoot himself right through the window, “Don’t think we have forgotten that confession.”

Sometime these days, Johnny is really gonna get it.

“It’s not what you think.” He almost whines. Almost. “He was asking if I like him as a friend.”

“And you do.”

Yuta. It’s going to be Johnny and Yuta who are catching his fists one of these days. Jaehyun will remember this.

He’s tight-lipped before he answers, faking a smile. “I told you about it, my friend.”

Of course that response shouldn’t have been let out in the open because it just gave Ten Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul an opportunity to gossip. “What? You’re not telling us something? So we’re keeping secrets now? How un-sorority of us!” Added with a dramatic huff and arms crossed over his chest.

The Invictus heir tries so hard not to snort. He fails in the end. Luckily, Ten doesn’t take offense at the moment. “I thought you said you wouldn’t pull a gossip girl–“ Then everyone simultaneously reacts, expressing confusion and protest. “Let me finish! Ten called us gossip girls earlier.”

Doyoung scoffs, adjusting his glasses. “How ridiculous. You misgendered us.”

Ten grumbles. “It ain’t that deep, Doyoung!”

“Right.” Jaehyun walks to the sliding doors and takes the snacks, quickly dismissing the employee. “Ask Yuta if you want to know.”

Suddenly, all eyes are on the Japanese. Yuta’s brows shoot up his hairline as he slowly gets up from his seat. “Uh, no. Don’t come for– Ten! Get off me!” `

 

 

“Fuck!”

Jaehyun groans, getting forced out of sleep as more curses and noises ring in his ear. It’s totally dark when he opens his eyes, still bleary and hazy as he rubs them with both hands. The floor is hard and the cold cuts through the several layers of shirts he’s wearing, reminding him that as long as Taeyong isn’t fine, then he’ll be taking the floor as his new bed.

Good thing he’s got an extra blanket soft enough to lessen the discomfort.

“Dammit!”

The light from his phone blinds him for a moment as it illuminates his whole face.

“Taeyong, it’s five in the morning…”

“What?” The twists and turns in bed suddenly stop as Taeyong sits, back pressed on the wall. His glare is sharp in the darkness and Jaehyun adjusts the brightness of his phone before he pats for the switch on the lamp atop the desk. “It’s five fucking AM and I can’t fucking sleep is that what you wanna say? I fucking know, alright?”

Ignoring the other’s outburst and onslaught of foul language, Jaehyun gets up to roll his blanket, stuffs it in the closet and turns the lights on. The satisfaction that surges in his veins to see Taeyong blinded for a second is undeniable. Lee Taeyong definitely deserves it for ruining his sleep.

“Are you hungry?”

“I said I can’t sleep. I want to sleep, not eat. Do you want to see a doctor for your poor comprehension skills? Must have shaken your head pretty bad when I banged it right against the bricked French walls in the middle of the French flavored rain.”

“Don’t’ fucking test me, Taeyong. I’m trying to help you. Now, if you don’t want to tell me if you’re hungry then I’m going to let you starve. I’m not lying.”

The caramel-head stares, chest heaving from labored breathing.

Jaehyun raises a brow. “What?”

“Are you going to feed me?” He asks as he begins to bite his nails, face now composed. It still never fails to scare Jaehyun how quick the other’s mood changes. “I still can’t use utensils, right?”

With a nod, the younger twists the knob and opens the door. “I’ll be back soon. Taeyong, behave yourself.”

Sniffle. “Okay.” He scoots to the very corner, and then wraps his arms around his legs, eyes never looking away from Jaehyun. “Okay.”

Jaehyun wastes no time and slips out, heading to the cafeteria. It’s only five in the morning but the cooks are already up to prepare.

When he arrives in the dining area, it’s completely deserted of Invictus men. Sounds of cooking equipment and talking reverberate through the rare quietness of the room that even his thudding footsteps reaches the others.

He glances down and sees that he didn’t even wear shoes.

A cook calls his attention, greeting him all too brightly, too bright in this ungodly hour of the morning.

“Uh, is Léonie up? What’s on the French menu?”

“Not yet, sir. She usually cooks at six AM. The French menu is also inconsistent.”

“Huh.” Jaehyun huffs, rubbing a hand down his face. “Alright. Uh, I’ll have a bowl of Kimchi fried rice instead, plus some sides.” He crosses the room to grab a juice box from the vending machine before collecting the tray from the cook and heads straight to the nearest elevator that will lead him back to the sleeping quarters.

When he returns, Taeyong is hunched with his arms wrapped around his middle, groaning.

Jaehyun puts the tray on the desk. “What’s wrong?”

“My whole body hurts. Like all my muscles are twisting and turning back into place.” The knife thrower looks up and grins through the pain. It ends up looking like a grimace. “I think this is not working. Give me my cigs, Jaehyun.”

“I told you that even if you slit your throat in front of me, and you bathe in your own blood, I won’t be giving it to you. What’s the point of this if you’re giving up after a day?” Jaehyun occupies the swivel chair near him and rolls himself near the bed with the tray on his lap. “Uh, this is Kimchi fried rice. Léonie isn’t up yet.”

Taeyong blows a raspberry, keeping the poor posture. His brown fringe falls back over his forehead and covers the blue eyes that Jaehyun _adores._ “I eat Korean food. I’m Korean, don’t be racist, Jaehyun. Do you hate French people?”

The other has definitely gotten more irritating than ever when he’s not out to kill, with his useless, taunting questions.

“You know that’s not what I meant.” The younger man begins feeding Taeyong patiently, quickly slipping spoonful after spoonful of rice in the latter’s mouth. It looks like Taeyong’s sucking in the food and he doesn’t even chew. “Chew slowly, this ain’t running away from you.” 

“Like you ran away from me?” He quickly interrupts just as Jaehyun opens his mouth. “Wait, you didn’t run away from me. You took your sweet time packing up that night while I was fake sleeping. I wanted to watch you drive away, you know. Sad, I could’ve bid you a hasty goodbye if you only dropped by my room.”

“It sounds like you haven’t forgiven me yet.” Jaehyun says offhandedly.

It tickles the older’s sick humor. “Mm? There’s nothing to forgive. I don’t hold grudges. I left you alone when I learned you weren’t the one betraying Red Phoenix, right?”

“Sure.”

This talk is going in circles. Jaehyun doesn’t think Lee Taeyong is ever going to let it go and will find the chance to rub it on his face just to get a reaction out of him. What does he want? Another brawl? Most likely. It’s what gives him life. Though it can’t happen this time when they’re on the way to getting some actual help, to actually prevent the man from doing things he shouldn’t do.

Coal black eyes travel to the other’s face, tracing each and every contour of Taeyong’s features. They’re sharp, never been gentle, never been soft. Jaehyun wonders if they’ll ever be and what might be the reason for it. Even the scars add to the strange beauty of the man before him. It’s unfair, Jaehyun believes so. How could scars make someone even more beautiful than they already are? Will he ever find Lee Taeyong _not_ captivating in the slightest bit, that even right now, in the middle of a painful withdrawal, all sweat and vomit and pains, he thinks this crazed person might be the only pretty thing he’ll ever admire in the next several lifetimes?

A finger snaps right on his face. “You’re staring.”

Jaehyun steps out his trance and looks down, realizing that the food is almost finished. He hands the juice box to Taeyong before casually wiping the bead of sweat rolling down the other’s cheek. “When the sun comes up, I’ll take you out for a walk.”

Taeyong chugs the milk with a trembling hand that a few drops of the drink spill from his mouth. “Fine. It’s cold outside, though. Why the hell is it still fucking winter?”

“I don’t know. Ask yourself. You’ve been in Korea long enough to question that, still. Anyway, I would want you to hit the gym but I’m worried about your flank. I guess the weird sweating works. It still detoxifies.”

“Whose fault is it that I can’t even do a simple exercise? How hypocritical of you.”

Anger bubbles in his guts, waiting to be let go. Jaehyun’s eyes harden. He can’t afford to land a punch or two on the other’s annoyingly perfect face even if he badly wants to. “Taeyong, it’s literally past five in the morning. I would ask you to stop trying to fight me.”

Leaning close, now even more hunched, Taeyong grins but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “Is that begging I hear right there?”

Jaehyun doesn’t answer. He won’t give Taeyong the satisfaction.

“Say it again. Louderrr.”

No response.

Without preamble, Taeyong grabs one of the pillows and hurls it across the room, eyes bulging. “I said louder, Jaehyun!” His teeth grit, jaw clenches. The vein in his neck comes into view, protruding.

“Fine, fine! Please stop provoking me!” Jaehyun hisses as he picks up the pillow and slams the bowl on the tray. “Stop this!”

And like a machine the knife thrower ceases, the rage on his face switching to an empty canvas, blank and empty. “Wish granted. Do you have candy? I don’t like the gum very much.”

The drawer opens and Jaehyun tosses a candy against Taeyong’s chest, added with an annoyed click of his tongue.

“I don’t want the rice anymore.” He tears the wrapper and quickly pops the candy in his mouth, the sweetness melting against the pocket of his cheek. It elicits a moan from him. “My skull feels like breaking in half, Jaehyun. Tell me, is my face symmetrical?”

“…I think so?”

“Great. So you know it’s gonna be the exact half of each other if you ax down the middle of my face. One for you and one for your friends.”

The imagery makes his stomach churn disapprovingly. “You really should be chewing the gum instead.”

Taeyong fixes his sweatpants, which is actually Jaehyun’s, and smacks his lips as he does a hard suck on the candy that is currently pressed between his fingers. “I’ll chew it when I feel like smoking.”

Nothing happens after that. The two stay seated at their claimed spots in the bedroom with Jaehyun on the swivel chair reading a book and Taeyong quietly pulling a loose thread on the sheets.

It remains that way, silent and peaceful until Jaehyun’s periphery catches sight of the shy peek of sunlight through the window.

Putting on a jacket and a pair of shoes, Jaehyun turns to Taeyong and tears the other’s hand from the thread. “Let’s go.” He drags the man out of bed and hands a sweater, as well as the only thing Taeyong managed to bring back to Korea – his pair of sneakers.

They pass by a few already busy employees with Jaehyun returning some greetings out of politeness. It’s not everyday he actually gets recognized as the Kingpin’s son in Invictus. Almost everyone is too serious for their own good.

Snow still covers the ground when they go out. They’re in the back lot and it isn’t a lot of space, not even a lot of things to see saved for a couple of plants that Taeyong glares at with a reason Jaehyun will never understand.

“Jaehyun?”

“What is it?” He lags behind in purpose, watching whatever Taeyong is doing. The older is just leisurely kicking snow with the heel of his shoes, covering the plants with cold white.

If they were living another life, another identity, without all the dark glamour of their lifestyle, Jaehyun would’ve found it endearing. Taeyong looks _oddly soft_ bundled up in his own clothes, caramel tresses sticking in different directions.

Like a royalty in a fictional book, blue eyes among green and black and brown, Taeyong easily exists…

…only for Jaehyun to admire.

“Tell me about the asylum. Have you found one yet?”

Jaehyun nods, slipping both hands in his pockets to warm them up. He walks over to the plant box, mindlessly staring on the innocent leaves that Taeyong mercilessly sprayed with more snow. He listens to the consistent snow-kicking behind him. “Yeah. It’s a private one. It’s…huge? Like three stories high. With a quadrangle, a gymnasium. They got classes.” He plucks one unknown flower, twisting it between his fingers. Its petals are soft beneath his touch that Jaehyun almost feels sorry for taking it away from its companions. “I don’t know what classes they’re offering but it helps the patients’ creativity and stuff. It looks…very much like a hospital. They also got rooms for recreation.” He finally turns around and Taeyong is squatting down, forming a snowball. “There’s a lot like you there.”

“That screams danger. I’ll be surrounded of them. You know I hate people.” The snowball is finally done with a few pats here and there and Taeyong peers up at Jaehyun, hand rising to aim the snowball at the him. He doesn’t do it. Jaehyun is glaring at him.

“We’ll work on that problem. That’s why you’re gonna be there.”

“I just want to be alone.” Taeyong sounds despondent and Jaehyun doesn’t know why he detects hopelessness from the former. It’s so unlike Lee Taeyong to be such.

Crouching next to the caramel-head, Jaehyun lets go of the flowers, accidentally stepping on it. The petals crash beneath the weight of his foot much like the rest of him at the thought of leaving Taeyong again. It can already be considered a sin by itself.

“Taeyong, why are you asking about it?”

He doesn’t know what he’s expecting as an answer, but it’s certainly not what he hears.

Taeyong continues to pat the snowball to perfection with furrowed brows and tightly pressed lips. He looks like he’s still hurting. “…I’m overthinking. They’re going to tie me down and do things to me and I’ll be hopeless because no one understands me there. It’s not Red Phoenix.”

_No one understands me there._

Just like a broken record, memories of the past replay in his head, flashing one specific time frame – the instances Taeyong told his stories and the rare vulnerability when he used to open up to Jaehyun.

He almost forgot that Taeyong is just a lonely person masked with the monstrous desire to be strong, to be feared. The loneliness makes him weak and he hates weakness that he blankets it with his hatred, anger, childhood issues and the need to become significant, to become someone hard to forget.

To be a nightmare.

Before, Jaehyun would snarl and despise anything that makes up Lee Taeyong. But the past was full of mistakes, of misjudgments and discriminations. Taeyong had done the vilest things possible; he had become wicked and ruthless. Jaehyun might be the one to change that now before it’s too late.

Resisting the urge to reach out and touch, do anything along the lines of providing comfort because it was never taught in their world, never expected of anyone in their line of work, Jaehyun resorts to staying next to Taeyong, making his own snowball. “You don’t have to think about those, Taeyong. Your mind is making up these things you’re worrying about. I’ll make sure no one lays a hand on you.”

Wide, glassy eyes meet his and for a second, Jaehyun sees nothing but innocence. “Promise?”

Promises are not his style. Promises never sat well with him. Promises never sounded good in his ears.

Because every promise is meant to be broken. He doesn’t want to break Taeyong again.

“Promise.”

Yet he gives the other something to hold on to for the times they will not be together – the most crucial ever since. Maybe, out of all the promises he made in the past and will make in the future, this is one that will go down in history for being true.

“Good. ‘Cause I don’t wanna shed blood in there and cover their sickly white walls with red.” And just like that, the innocence he thought he saw was uncovered. It was never there to begin with. “Come here.”

“Why?” He asks as he moves closer.

Taeyong remains quiet. There’s a distance of barely a foot between them and even if they both lie, there’s a force that compels them to move even closer, to close the gap and feel, just _feel._ Jaehyun’s eyes travel down until they reach a pair of chapped lips. The urge to wet them is too stro–

A snowball lands on his face, the ice splattered across his cheeks and forehead.

“Gotcha.”

So for several minutes they run around the lot, Taeyong forgetting the cramps in his body and the nauseous taste dancing on his tongue in lieu of hurling snow at Jaehyun. It seems like he has leverage in the game for being a deadly accurate knife thrower because he’s still unstained while the younger receives yet another splash of snow straight to the crotch.

“This is unfair. You’re good at this. I’ve never thrown snowballs before and you’re too quick for me.”

“You’re just weak. Your arms? You got muscles but you’re not using them properly. Get a fucking trainer, Jung.”

Taeyong wobbles, looking paler than yesterday. He holds up a finger and beckons Jaehyun to come close.

“Why?” Another question, another disguise to make it look like he hesitates. He comes over anyway.

The caramel-head leans his weight against Jaehyun, to which the latter wraps his arms around the older’s waist. Hot breath hits the shell of Jaehyun’s ear. Taeyong breathes against him, much calmer than seconds ago and he’s trembling. Without the existence of a cigarette, his hands find purchase on the sides of Jaehyun’s jacket, gripping.

It feels like _that_ time when they held each other intimately in the hotel room on the night of Garnet’s gala. Totally different, a far cry, but still the same. If it was hot and rushed and suffocating before, then it’s calm and tender and contented right now. Nevertheless it still makes Jaehyun want to _want_ more.

…Although he takes it back right away, because some wishful thinking are wishful thinking for a reason, a daydream is a daydream, because Taeyong, apparently doesn’t feel the same energy and desire running all over Jaehyun’s body and ending on the tips of his fingers when he throws up all over the younger, all puke and spit coating the front of Jaehyun’s jacket.

He has the audacity to cackle at Jaehyun’s condition when he finishes emptying his stomach.

“What were you expecting, dimple boy?”

“Not this!”

The same events happen on the next few days. Taeyong depends on pills to sleep, wakes up soaked in sweat, cramping and irritated before vomiting until he doesn’t have anything to throw up anymore.  On several occasions he asks Jaehyun for a cigarette even though he’s completely aware of the other’s response, having already memorized the routine and the words that come out of Jaehyun’s mouth. His body twitches, fingers scratching on the skin of his arms, on the wall and on the sheets until they sting and he can’t will them to stop before he noisily chews on another gum.

It’s hard. The thought of giving up crosses Jaehyun’s mind in the next three days. He never cared like this for anyone before. Not even his mother. He had to fend for himself during the difficult times since he was a boy, not expecting the head of the family’s support and comforting whispers.

In the middle of the night, when Taeyong is sound asleep and Jaehyun remains staring on the ceiling through the thickness of the dark, he realizes they’re the same. Independent. Relying on no one for emotional guidance. That’s the only thing they share in common, though. Jaehyun has Ten and the others to take care of him now if he gets injured. Taeyong has no one because he’s stubborn, will never let anyone touch him, come close to him – unless it’s Jung Jaehyun.

Whenever he thinks of that, _giving up_ suddenly vanishes from every nook and corner of his mind. He’s the only one who can freely enter the iron gates surrounding Lee Taeyong. He’s the only one who has the privilege. It’s both a blessing and a curse. Because as much as he likes the thought of being the only one to affect Taeyong, the fact that it’s only he who can put some bits of humanity in the other is a burden.

Humanity. The one thing he was supposed to get rid of when he tried to get rid of Taeyong. It became a burden, an unnecessary load.

_I was really stupid, huh. I fell for the provocations. They were supposed to make me strong, not make me lose myself completely to the point that no one around me matters. Does it mean Lee Taeyong will always be stronger and wiser? Probably. Even if he shows it in ways socially undesirable._

When another sunrise arrives, Jaehyun hasn’t slept a wink yet. Surprisingly, it doesn’t take a toll on his body. Not even a hint of sleepiness.

It’s eight in the morning when he returns to his room after a breakfast, bringing in Taeyong’s meal. The other’s already emptying his stomach again, violently heaving and spilling his digested meal from the night prior.

Jaehyun can’t do much other than to rub Taeyong’s back soothingly, waiting for him to get done. “Be thankful my father doesn’t need me at all and I can play nurse with you.”

He gets a prompted glare through matted caramel strands. “I don’t fucking need you. Why are you so poor you ain’t got your own bathroom? This would’ve been easier.”

“Invictus isn’t poor. And I don’t know? This has been like this ever since.”

Taeyong grabs the water and gargles, spitting the remnants of puke in the basin. “I feel so fucking sticky, Jaehyun. I need a shower.”

“Then come. I’ll get someone to clean the basin.” Jaehyun says with a hand already grabbing clothes and a fresh towel from the closet while the other holds the phone to his ear as he talks to someone Taeyong doesn’t care about.

Soon they’re in the shower room. Taeyong occupies the first stall. Luckily, no one else is showering or else it’s going to be very, very weird for them to see Jaehyun guarding one of the doors. What a bad dream. Another memory to put in the embarrassing moments section of a diary.

He has his eyes close while he leans against the thankfully dry, tiled wall when an all too familiar voice resonates, surprising him.

“Do I wanna know why you’re just standing there?” Johnny asks, holding his own change of clothes.

Jaehyun rolls his eyes and shifts his weight on the other foot. “Don’t say it. No one else can watch over him like a hawk with the patience of a nun.”

The sound of running water stops. “Nuns are not my type, Jaehyun. I’ve never been to a church my whole life. Don’t cosplay them. I’m also not gonna dress up as priest if you have such blasphemous kinks. The alb is going to burn my skin.”

Johnny shrugs. “He sounds fine.”

“Trust me. He isn’t.”

“Hey, Taeyong. So what’s you’re type if not nuns?”

Jaehyun almost throws a punch. “Fucki–“

As if on cue, the door on the first stall opens and hot steam blows right on Jaehyun’s face like incense. Taeyong is already dressed, rubbing the towel on his hair. “I don’t know why you’re talking to me. Didn’t you badmouth me right on this guy’s first day in Red Phoenix? What happened to not paying attention to the spawn of Satan?”

“Right.” The tallest out of the three sighs. “I don’t like you. Good luck today, Jaehyun! Tough to be a babysitter!” And before anyone can react, Johnny disappears behind the third stall.

Taeyong blinks a few times before looking at Jaehyun. “I said nothing wrong. I was wholesomely asking a genuine question.”

“And he said nothing wrong as well. Just stating he doesn’t like you. Come on, you need to eat and go on another silly walk outside.”

***

“What’s 1000 minus 7?”

“993. Can’t you count?”

“You’re not supposed to be sarcastic with me, Jaehyun.”

“Then why did you ask me that?”

“It’s what Nakamoto used to ask people he wants to be friends with.” Taeyong says with a disgruntled sigh. “It’s from one of the animes he watches. It’s proven to be effective seeing he has five friends now.”

“He didn’t ask me that before.” Jaehyun tapes the end of the bandage and huffs as he finishes, closing the drawer and allowing Taeyong to put his shirt on. “You didn’t have to ask me that. We’re already friends.”

“Yeah,” The blue-eyed man says, inserting a hand through the armhole and pulling his shirt down. “And you’re the only one I wanna be friends with so I’m trying to gather as much friends through one person. I’ll ask you that again next time.”

The absurdity makes Jaehyun scoff. “What makes you think I have more than one persona?”

“You’re nice with the squad but you’re not nice to me. You have two personas. So I’m gonna make at least two friends out of you.”

“Taeyong,” The Invictus heir clenches a fist before frustratingly grabbing a handful of his own hair. “May I remind you that you’re 26? We just welcomed a new year so you’re gonna be turning a year older. There must be some miscalculations done when you took an IQ test.”

The other only juts out his lower lip before pressing gently on his shoulder and flank. It doesn’t hurt anymore, thanks to the painkillers. “You’re clearly insulting me right now.”

“Totally. And I will continue to do so if you keep asking me silly questions.” Jaehyun gets off the chair to unroll the blanket on the floor. It’s nearing midnight and they’re done with the first week of Taeyong’s withdrawals. The telltale signs of exhaustions already seep into his bones, eager to drain him of energy. Eliciting a sigh of relief, Jaehyun fluffs his extra pillow and hugs it. “Turn off the lamp soon.”

Silence.

“You have a gym session with me tomorrow morning. At 5. I already set an alarm. I dropped by the clinic earlier and the doctor was there so I asked if you could at least run the treadmill. It will be faster to detoxify.”

He hears some rustlings and a low grunt before the room is filled with nothing but black.

“Sleep well, Taeyong.”

“Mm. Night.”

If this is what friendship means, saying goodnight and waiting for nice dreams to come for the both of them, then Jaehyun supposes he should’ve agreed in the first place. Because even though he has the squad, Taeyong’s monotonous “night” sounds far incredibly reassuring than anybody else’s.

 

 

Day 13.

Two AM.

“You should’ve called the doctor…?” Ten remarks, irritated. Having woken up in the middle of the night by a frantic Jung Jaehyun does things to his mood – ugly things. They quickly head to the clinic, greeted by a sleepy nurse before the Thai blindly reaches up to grab a clear bottle filled with white pills, slamming it to Jaehyun’s waiting palm. “Jaehyun, I need enough sleep, too. You got a nightshift nurse.” The person being pointed at gives them a bored glance before going back to whatever in their phone that keeps them busy.

Jaehyun apathetically shakes the bottle with a sigh. “He’s on-call. You’re here. And I don’t vibe with this nurse.”

“Listen,” Ten starts walking away with the younger in tow. “I gave you enough last time. Where did that go?”

“Uh, Taeyong dumped it in his basin of puke.” Squinted eyes scan over the bottle’s label. “It’s amazing how you have all of this scientific shit memorized.”

“Thanks. But he dumped it? Now that idiot’s asking for it?”

Jaehyun almost collides against the shorter man’s back when the latter stops in front of the elevator, impatiently pressing the button. “It was accidental.” They both get in once the silver doors open and Jaehyun’s forehead presses against the cold wall, his breath forming a moist on the surface. “Just…thanks, Ten. I wouldn’t know what to do without you.”

The elevator dings and Jaehyun follows the other out. Ten looks at him sympathetically before patting his shoulder twice, like he’s telling Jaehyun it’s fine, although it’s not. This has been going on for close to two weeks, and Jaehyun has bothered all of them at this point.

When Ten disappears back into his own room, Jaehyun quickly sprints back to his. It’s when he’s about to enter the code when he hears violent thuds from inside. Taeyong was lying down in bed, quiet and staring lifelessly on the ceiling when he left.

The gears in his head turn. Jaehyun unlocks the door and is welcomed by the sight of his own room looking like it was flipped upside down.

Everything is in disarray. From his desk to his closet, all things are strewn across the floor that he doesn’t know where to put his foot without stepping on anything, afraid that broken shards are scattered. A side of his bed is drenched with water, the sheets taken off.

It looks like a tornado has left his room in a derelict state.

And in the middle of it stands Lee Taeyong, panting, sweating, pulling at his own hair and cursing nonstop, speaking gibberish that Jaehyun doesn’t know anymore what the other’s talking about.

“Taeyong,”

Blue eyes dart at him. Taeyong’s lips are trembling just like the rest of him before he falls on his bottom on the floor, coughing out his lungs. Jaehyun drops next to him, digging the bottle of pills in Taeyong’s hand and curling the latter’s fingers around it. His own hand doesn’t leave the other’s.

“Take two. You can go to sleep faster if you take two.”

“If I take ten do I fucking go to sleep and never wake up?” Taeyong grouches, his rough voice scratching against the walls, leaving traces of pain and a whole lot more that Jaehyun doesn’t want to delve into, scared that he might never survive. Taeyong is a pool of torture and regrets and hurt that if Jaehyun explores it, there’s no guarantee he won’t drown.

“What caused this?” He knows it’s useless to talk through Taeyong’s messy state. He snatches the pills from him and hides it in his pocket, gripping Taeyong’s jaw so hard it will leave a bruise. They look eye to eye, a few inches between them.

Jaehyun sounds desperate. “I’m not going to let you do this to yourself, you hear me? It’s temporary, Taeyong. All these crickets and demons in your head you tell me about, they’re going to leave if you discipline yourself. I’ll give you two and you will go to sleep. I’m going to let this go and sleep on the damn floor because instead of fighting, I’m going to be nice to you, I won’t break your jaw.” Ironically, his grip tightens. “You will help me clean up tomorrow. Okay?” Quickly, he forces two pills in Taeyong’s mouth and watches the other swallow them dry. He honestly expects another attempt of resistance but maybe he’s getting luckier and better at this and his companion never says another thing in favor of going back to bed, curled up.

Jaehyun stares. He wants to think but his mind doesn’t work. So he grabs the blanket instead and drapes it over Taeyong, kneeling on the side of the bed and watching until the other’s chest is moving steadily, breaths deep from a sounding sleep.

“Believe me. I wanted to break your jaw.” Jaehyun mumbles. “But that was the stupid Jaehyun speaking. Be glad the not stupid Jaehyun prevailed and all you will get when you wake up is a light scolding.” His hand, which had been patting the top of Taeyong’s head, leaves the soft mop of hair to grab a random shirt to wipe the sticky sweat on Taeyong’s skin. “Let’s do this the right way from now on, alright? I’m sorry.”

He gets up and pushes away all that is possible to prick him when he lays down the floor. Jaehyun stays awake for a few more minutes, just listening to the steady breathing of the man in his bed.

“I’m sorry again, Taeyong. For all the things I’ve done and will do to you.” 

 

 

Everything switches back to normal after that night – as normal as they can get. It just means Lee Taeyong isn’t sick anymore, and he’s not craving for cigarettes, but the tics remain, only that his handy rescuer is a pack of gum or a chocolate bar.

Jaehyun fails to convince the other that helping him clean up the mess in the room is a good enough compensation after what he’s been put through by the same person who refused to give a small helping hand. Taeyong scoffs and stands in one corner, watching him sweep and mop the floor before folding his clothes and hanging the others in the closet.

At least, he makes an effort to comment on the sight of the broken lamp – shows that he isn’t completely indifferent about the whole thing.

“That was a nice lamp.”

“It was a nice lamp. You will buy me a new one.”

Jaehyun feels something hit the back of his head. An innocent candy drops on the floor. “What was that for?”

“How can I afford even the cheapest item when I don’t have a coin in my pocket?” Taeyong proves it further by pulling one of his pockets outward. “Nothing.”

“Didn’t you get paid in Red Phoenix?”

“I did. But my card wasn’t in the bag that was prepared by whoever before they dumped me all tied up in the backseat. It doesn’t matter anymore. There aren’t any convenience stores in the asylum, are there?”

The last suit is hung in the closet before Jaehyun turns his attention on the caramel-head. “There’s none. But you’ll be given snacks. I specifically requested the staff to give you sweet candies and chocolates, but it should be moderated. I don’t trust the sugar rush in your nicotine-free body.”

“Am I really nicotine-free now?”

“They do regular check-ups there. You’ll know.” Jaehyun places a duffel bag on bed and stares at its emptiness. “Would you need clothes? I mean, normal clothes. For whatever purposes undisclosed to me.”

Taeyong finally leaves his spot in the corner, now standing next to Jaehyun. “Mm, I don’t have an idea as well, but if you want, you can leave me some memento. You know, for when I miss you and you’re not there.”

The words choke Jaehyun, and he’s literally holding his throat as he coughs out his lungs, eyes glassy. “What the hell!”

“What?” Asks Taeyong, innocently. His eyes show nothing but truthfulness at the moment that Jaehyun wants to think he’s dreaming, that he’s in a different realm. Only the sounds of Taeyong noisily sucking on a lollipop tells him that he’s, in fact, not dreaming because if he was, then the disgusting suckling noises won’t be existing.

Ignoring the straightforwardness of the other, Jaehyun chooses to dump some of his own clothes in the bag, zipping it close after. “You just gave me an option if I want to pack you some clothes or not. Sometime ago you wouldn’t even allow me to do whatever I want.”

“Sure. You continue to act like you know me.”

“Don’t I?” With nothing more to do as Taeyong doesn’t have much of his own anyway, Jaehyun picks up the duffel bag and grabs the door open, glancing at the older with a softened gaze.

Taeyong stands still, his back turned to the other. Jaehyun doesn’t know whatever Taeyong is looking at but he feels like he shouldn’t rush.

“This has been my new room for two weeks. It certainly doesn’t feel like my room in Red Phoenix for a lot of reasons, but it’s comfortable here. Very much so. Do you want to hear the reason why I feel that way?”

“Tell me.”

Then he finally sees Taeyong’s face, straight and unperceivable. Like the usual. Except for when he looks straight into the other’s eyes, Jaehyun sees something for the first time, something that was never there before.

_Longing._

“I guess you already know.”

***

They don’t bother to inform the others. Besides, this is solely Jaehyun’s plan, out of Invictus’ concern. Even the squad is unaware that Taeyong’s departure is right away, on the day he’s finally out of withdrawal’s trap. Taeyong had woken up that morning like he was never puking his guts out for days, and the first thing he said when Jaehyun opened his eyes from an hour of sleep was, “ _take me there._ ”

Jaehyun drives one of the cars with Taeyong quietly strapped in the shotgun seat. Small changes. He’s fastened with a seatbelt. They’ve been on the road for thirty minutes and now entering a place with less commercial buildings, more trees.

“Do you want to hear a comment of mine? I swear it’s harmless and it won’t aggravate you and ruin your concentration.”

“Just tell me, Taeyong.”

“It looks calming.” He rolls the window down and sticks out his head, the wind hitting his face soothingly. Caramel tresses are touched by the sunlight, and his cheeks begin to turn a nice shade of red. “Is that the asylum? That building there?”

Jaehyun follows where he’s pointing. “Yes.”

Taeyong doesn’t say anything more as he pulls himself back and closes the window. Two minutes later they parked right in front of the building and Jaehyun carries the duffel bag filled with his own clothes before they get in quick, avoiding the freezing temperature.

People wearing white greet them with a smile that Taeyong scoffs at. The smiles are only directed at Jaehyun and never once did they spare him a glance, as though he’s invisible. Perhaps he is, to them at least. He understands. He likes it, matter of fact. If treating him like he doesn’t exist makes everyone leave him alone, then so be it. He believes he’ll last long with that kind of routine.

Jaehyun stops by a desk. Taeyong is left with nothing to do but stand obediently behind the younger.

“I’m here to leave Lee Taeyong in your care? I’ve already talked to the director and we’re expected today.”

The woman dressed in the same white uniform as the others type something on the keyboard, confirming the patient’s identity. “Is Lee Taeyong under Doctor Kim for therapy sessions?” Her cherry red lips moved coyly when she peers up at Jaehyun, setting Taeyong’s chest aflame. This doesn’t look good.

He steps forward, showing himself. The woman’s expression doesn’t change when she acknowledges his presence. “Miss, do you have a boyfriend?”

Jaehyun gasps. “Taeyong!”

Taeyong brings up a hand, stopping Jaehyun. “Miss, do you have a boyfriend?”

Confusion etches on her features but she nods anyway.

The caramel-head hums. “Good. Make sure to reserve the sticky gazes on him. He won’t like it if he knows you’re ogling the guardian of your new patient.”

“I–“

“I am the patient. He’s my guardian.” Taeyong manages to flash a smile as normal-looking as he can. At least he doesn’t look like he’s going to slam her head against the monitor.

Taken aback, the woman diverts her gaze and works the keyboard shortly, reluctantly looking at Jaehyun after. “Please head to Doctor Kim’s office. He’s just going to talk about a few things with you. Take a turn to the right and it’ll be the door with his name plate on.”

He feels a sudden grip around his arm then Jaehyun is dragging him away, stopping right before the door of the doctor’s office. “What was that?”

“Nothing. Get your hand off me.”

The grip on his arm disappears just as the door opens and a man wearing a white coat over black button down and slacks appear, looking a little startled. “Are you Mr. Jung?”

“Yes.”

“Please come in.” The doctor eyes Taeyong for a moment, stepping aside to let the two enter. The door closes gently when they take their seats.

“So,” Doctor Kim begins, taking his previous place behind the desk. “Normally we’d make the patient take a few tests and be interviewed before they are diagnosed and taken in. But, according to what you said, it seems like this is alarming and urgent. Still, the patient will be given tests for further assessment later on.” His eyes linger on Lee Taeyong then, observing. “But it will not be forced. It will be administered whenever the patient is willing to avoid jeopardizing the results.”

“What else do you want to know? I’m pretty sure Jaehyun has told you how I murdered people just because they annoyed the fuck out of me and how much I hate people who try to look at me thinking I’m a plague.” The corner of Taeyong’s mouth curves into a small, wicked smile before he leans forward, eyes never leaving the doctor’s. “I hate people in general, doctor. How many patients does this place have?”

“Currently, 46.”

His eye twitches. The doctor scribbles something on a paper. “Make sure they don’t give me a reason to ki–“

Jaehyun cuts in. “Doctor, I’ve already discussed this with the director and I’m sure all of you had been oriented. I trust this facility’s security and strict confidentiality but please, for the second time, do not let anyone whose name is not on the list I gave approach Lee Taeyong. If they are not on the list, and they want to see him, do everything to block this person from any kind of contact with this facility and everyone that works in here. I’m willing to pay extra for excellent precautions. My visits will be sporadic, for I will be very busy and notices will be sent through email. If something urgent arises, my number is already in your records. Call only if necessary. He has healing wounds so please do regular checkups. I expect no harm inflicted on the patient from any of the staff – in any form, even you. Because I will know. Are we clear, Kim Junmyeon?”

The doctor, professional and composed, nods in understanding. Jaehyun did not disclose any kind of information regarding his and Taeyong’s identity, but they’re very much aware that the two are not ordinary people, if the amount of money paid upfront and the number of reminders and underlying threats were anything to go by.

“All will be well, Mr. Jung. If nothing more is needed to be cleared, Lee Taeyong can now follow a nurse to get changed into his uniform before he’s taken to his room.”

“Thank you.”

Right then, a female nurse enters the office, wearing a kind smile. Her hair is black and silky, tied into a bun. She asks Taeyong to come with her in her gentlest tone, and her intentions are as clear as a summer sky, contrasting the previous woman’s from earlier. Jaehyun knows she’s different, because Taeyong stood without a word, allowing the nurse to hold him as they exit the office.

He sits by the lounging area while he waits for the nurse and Taeyong to return. A television is latched onto the wall, playing a Disney movie. Jaehyun would love to see something louder and aggressive, but he guesses action movies cannot be played in such facility to prevent triggering unacceptable behaviors.

Soft thudding footsteps come from behind him and he turns just in time to see Taeyong in all white, trench coat and shoes and the rest of his own clothes removed. The nurse’s hands are full. Jaehyun realizes she has the clothes Taeyong was wearing.

The blue-eyed man is distractedly glancing around.

Jaehyun gets up to hand the duffel bag to her. “If necessary, his clothes are there. Give them to him.” He catches sight of her name plate before offering her a smile. “Thank you, Chungha.”

“No problem. Follow me; I’ll be taking him to his room now. I know you’d want to be assured.”

They take the stairs. Taeyong is in between the nurse and Jaehyun as they climb up floors. The second floor is where the recreation rooms and other activity areas are. The third floor is where all patients settle in.

When they arrive at the last floor, Taeyong stiffens, halting in his tracks. Jaehyun glances around and notices a few patients walking here and there, some of them chatting, some in their own world. He faces the caramel-head and cups Taeyong’s cheeks, making their eyes meet.

“Hey, everything’s going to be fine. Look,” Jaehyun gestures at the patients before looking back at Taeyong. “They don’t care about you. They won’t bother you. Later you will find friends here.”

“You’re my only friend.”

Jaehyun’s lips press firmly before he nods, eliciting an airy laugh. “Of course. We’re friends now, Taeyong.” In his periphery he notices Chungha still waiting patiently. Not wanting to stall, Jaehyun pulls Taeyong with him until they reach a vacant room.

From the open blinds, the young heir can see the inside of what will be Lee Taeyong’s comfort zone for an indefinite time. There’s only a single bed pressed against the wall, bolted on the ground and just as white as their uniform and nothing else. He wants to mention how boring and lacking it is, but everything in here is done for reasons. Any object is a possible weapon that a patient can use.

Chungha unlocks the door and enters first, followed by the two. “Breakfast is over and lunch will be served soon. If you don’t wish to mingle with the others, you will have to stay in here. We follow a strict schedule. All patients with a go signal from the doctors can join the afternoon activities. Don’t worry, it will be indoors because of the weather.”

“I don’t want to talk to anyone.”

“Understood. We have nurses assigned to particular patients and I’ll be the one to take care of you. If you need me, though I’ll be checking on you regularly, just press that button on the wall near your bed.”

She exits then, but stopping by the door. Jaehyun faces the older and holds a pair of trembling hands.

“I want to say you look good in white, but this is not the white I would want you to wear for a long time. So please, Taeyong, accept all the help they will give you. The sooner I take you out of here, the better.”

Blue eyes peer at him, hard and unfeeling. Before he can think twice, Jaehyun’s lips press a kiss on Taeyong’s forehead. He isn’t sure as to why he did it, but he knows it means a lot – a kiss of goodbye, a kiss of see you later, a kiss that tells both of them they’re not ending here – Jaehyun is going to see him whenever he can until it’s time for Taeyong to come back.

The kiss is warm on Taeyong’s forehead, blooming until it covers the entirety of his body. He feels it glide down the length of his arms and legs, and he hopes the heat blankets him until the end of winter, until the end of his stay in the asylum. It’s one of the things that will remain with him when Jaehyun walks out the door, aside from the clothes.

The younger’s lips disappear from his skin, and when Taeyong opens his eyes, something he didn’t even notice he did, Jaehyun is already gone and the door is locked, and he’s alone for the next few days, weeks, years.

And once again, since the last time he was abandoned, Taeyong despairs.  

 

 

He had refused to go down for lunch and dinner. Doctor Kim did not allow Taeyong’s assigned nurse, Chungha to include him for the afternoon activities with other patients, saying he’s deemed emotionally unstable for social gatherings. The female nurse didn’t look sad when she relayed the information. Instead, she was still wearing that genuine smile although not as wide as what she had earlier.

“It’s fine, Taeyong. Soon you’ll be allowed to roam around the place without me.” She promised. Then she was gone, only coming back when it’s time for dinner.

She insists on feeding him because he won’t let her take him to the cafeteria. Taeyong obeys, taking the food she puts in his mouth until the plate’s clean. It’s just porridge, but it tastes decent. Taeyong didn’t actually mind having bland meals since he’s used to only eating candies and chocolates, with occasional sandwiches.

“What do the other patients eat?”

Chungha hands him a napkin which he uses to wipe the sides of his mouth, before dumping the cloth on the plate. The nurse shakes her head at him. “Korean food, of course. You had porridge per Mr. Jung’s instructions. You just had your withdrawal, and he advised us to make you warm, soft meals occasionally. If it doesn’t suit your taste, then you are free to go down.”

She fixes the tray and orders him to drink the prescribed medicine for his wounds. “Tomorrow, you have physical checkup and therapy. It’s not going to be harsh; it’s just to check the condition of your wounds, if the healing process is going on normally. Sadly, you still can’t join the art and cooking classes until Doctor Kim assesses your emotional stability. Would you like to see him soon?”

The thought of seeing the doctor ticks him off, and Chungha immediately notices. She claps once, loud and clear that it slightly startles the patient. “I heard that as soon as you get better, the handsome man will come back to take you from here! So I suggest that you try to talk to Doctor Kim whenever possible?”

The way she talks to him, like he’s a child and she’s making sure not to trigger his tendencies is supposed to irk him, but Taeyong surprises himself because he realizes he doesn’t mind. From the first time she looked at him, Chungha has nothing but sincerity. Taeyong can sense that she genuinely likes what she’s doing and that she’s perfectly fine being around him.

_Does it mean she’s unaware of my capabilities? Should I test?_

“Kim Chungha.”

She’s halfway to the door when he calls her. Chungha turns to him, brows raised. “Yes?”

With the walls once again built around him, emotions imperceptible, Taeyong relays what must instill fear on her. “I cut my sister’s finger when I was a kid because I didn’t like the color of her birthday cake. I murdered two men in a club when I was a teenager, bashed their skulls open because they wouldn’t let me grab my fucking drink. I tortured people, skinned them alive, plucked their teeth and carved letters on their flesh. After that I beheaded them. I didn’t stop with just one or two, Chungha. I killed more. Because they got on my way and mostly because they were annoying.”

He waits for her to say something, do something. But the expression on her face doesn’t change and she shows no signs of fear and reluctance as she walks back to him, carrying the tray. The air around her is so light and calming that instead of him scaring her, she makes him feel relaxed with her presence. And it’s a whole new thing, something that Taeyong doesn’t know if he should be getting mad for or…glad.

“I’ve been here for five years. I’ve seen a lot, heard a lot, felt a lot. I witnessed people break right in front of me. I’ve talked to people who did the same things you did. And yes, you are a brutal person and the things you did were inhumane. But you did not tell me why you’ve become the way you are now, and I believe whatever the reason is, it caused you a lot of hardships and the only way to shut yourself off is to give the pain back.

One thing you’re better than the rest is you are aware of it. And I know you want to change. If you didn’t, you wouldn’t be here. That’s one step into betterment.”

Stunned, Taeyong watches her go. The sound of the outside lock clicking pulls him out of trance as he lies down, gripping the blanket.

“What a weird woman.”

***

There are no clocks inside the room, nothing to tell the time since there are no windows except for the one that lets him see the hallway and other patients’ rooms. But when he’s woken up by Chungha the next day, pulled up still groggy and trying to remember his vague dream, he knows it’s still painfully early in the morning.

“Why is everyone talking, Chungha? Let me go back to sleep.” He snatches his arm out of her grasp, curling back into bed with a purpose of continuing the storyline of his dream. He doesn’t even know what it was about, just that he saw himself killing people and maybe it was a past memory trying to claw its way back in his head.

The nurse clicks her tongue. “There is morning exercise. You can stay in the back so you’re not surrounded by the others. Doctor Kim allowed you to go, it’s beneficial for you. It’s like physical therapy.”

He suddenly bolts up, hair sticking into different directions. “What? You mean it’s _not_ the physical therapy?”

With hands on her hips, Chungha sighs. “If you don’t want to go I can just take you around so you’ll get familiar with the facility. How does that sound?”

Taeyong looks skeptic, but he slides out of bed. “I only have to talk to you?”

“Of course. Until you feel like I’m not cool enough to discuss serial killings with you. Come on.”

She makes Taeyong comb his hair first while she fixes the bed, immediately setting off to showing him around after.

They go around the third floor first. Most patients are doing their morning exercise while those without the go signal from their assigned doctors stay in the rooms, either sleeping or doing god knows what. Taeyong caught one through the open blinds slapping themselves, and he scoffs. _Dumbfuck._

“So you’re the 47th patient. Professionally, when we discuss about the progress, we call you by your patient number. So within the medical staff, you’re patient no.47. We call you by your given name sometimes. But to us the numbers are easier to remember.”

“Sounds like an experiment.” A door bangs open, hitting against the wall from Taeyong’s right. A patient is trying to pry out of a male nurse’s hold, wanting to escape.

Chungha waves her hand dismissively. “It happens all the time. Some patients cannot be tamed.”

He makes no comment about it. Taeyong knows sooner or later there’s a possibility he’ll be doing the same thing.

Chungha tells him where the bathrooms are. “Press the button on your wall if you need to go, I’ll be accompanying you.”

The caramel-head stops in his tracks, brows furrowed. “I can’t go to the bathroom on my own. Even taking out my dick and pissing cannot be done on my own. I’m not crippled, if you can’t fucking see. What are you gonna do next, catch my shit with your bare hands?”

Ignoring the crude language, the nurse shrugs and beckons him to follow. “I won’t watch you pee and dump, Taeyong. I’m expected to give you a bath. All patients are given a bath by their nurses. Believe me. There are no malicious intentions. Do you want a male nurse to do that for you? I understand the discomfort.”

“No.” His immediate response makes her raise a brow. “I mean, I don’t want to deal with a new person. I don’t know why I’m not choking you to death right now but I think that’s a good sign. I don’t give a shit if you see all of me.”

Satisfied with the answer, she continues to show him around until they reach the second floor. The first thing that greets him is the recreation room. It’s the size of two classrooms and the patients are inside, doing their morning exercise. The sight alone makes Taeyong’s stomach churn, and a taste of bile lingers in his mouth.

Chungha takes him away. “Alright, no more of that. This one here,” She pulls him to the next room. It’s dark and empty. “It’s where the cooking classes are done. You’re taught to cook simple meals and bake goodies. Do you know how to cook?”

Taeyong gently withdraws his wrist from her hold and rubs it, blue eyes scanning what he could see from the outside. “No.”

“So what do you like to eat?”

“Candies and chocolates among others.”

“Ah, I was told to give you a chocolate bar later at lunch. Anything else?”

Taeyong gives her a sharp, curt side glance, lip twitching. “Pissaladiére pasta.”

The foreign word wraps her in confusion; head craned a bit to the side. “Would you like to eat that?”

The caramel-head ignores the question in lieu of crossing the hall. In front of him is a room, still closed like the cooking room. There are art utensils on a shelf like crayons and paint brushes next to paint tubes. Five easels stand in a row against the wall, each with a blank canvas already set on them. There’s also a blackboard, free of writings and chalk residues.

“This is the art room. Art class is every other day, like the cooking class. Normally we’d let the patients play sports outside but the weather forbids us. So random games are being facilitated in the recreation room. On the first floor, that’s where the other stuff are done. Meetings, checkups, therapies, patient registrations. I don’t think you need to see the laundry and kitchen area. Do you?” Chungha asks, before suddenly perking up. “Oh! The canteen! Do you want to see it? It’s on the first floor.”

“I don’t want to. It’s enough that I know where it is.”

Without waiting for her, he walks back to the recreation room and stops by the big windows.

Irritation, dread and disgust all churn in his guts as he remains watching a crowd of people wearing the same uniform as his, talking and getting along with others. Still, they look odd to him. All of them are odd. All of them are sick in the head. And he can’t accept the fact that he’s clearly the most intelligent among them, but he looks the same, no difference, no exceptions.  They’re all wearing white to tell everyone the world they’re fucked up.

Anger boils in his chest, threatening to rise up to his head and consume his thoughts. But just as he takes a step forward, to barge in and wrap a hand around the nearest person’s throat, Chungha holds him back with both hands on his shoulders. It’s gentle, mindful of the injury he has.

“Let’s go back to your room. I’ll fetch you breakfast and I’ll leave you alone ‘til it’s time for bath. Since you’re not allowed to join the afternoon activities, would you want to see Doctor Kim then?”

“I don’t want to see anyone.”

“Fine. Let’s go.”

 

 

Taeyong knows that Jaehyun didn’t promise a regular visit but it has been three days since he last saw the other and it’s starting to take a toll on him – the absence of the only presence he appreciates and vibes with. Even though Chungha’s tolerable, she’s nowhere near Jaehyun, incapable of giving Lee Taeyong what he wants – a peace of mind.

It’s a little past six in the evening. He’s locked up in his room, back pressed against the headboard as he watches the bypassing of patients here and there. The art class has just finished. It must be the activity today since even from his place, he can spot a mixture of colors on the patients’ uniforms, staining them with ink and paint.

_How childish._

His mind wanders to the doctor. Again, he refused Chungha’s offer to take him to Doctor Kim, saying he’ll talk when he wants to. Not even Jaehyun forced personal information out of him.

_But it’s because that Bugs Bunny did it for him, spilling all my shit to feed their curiosity._

For the next two hours, he remains sitting idle in his bed, completely unmoving except for his eyes, following figures walking past his room. They’re all wearing white, and the only thing that distinguished the patients from nurses is the way they hold themselves while walking. The patients always either look zoned out or too bright, sometimes angry. Taeyong knows what he’s watching is not a patient when the look on their faces is boredom, like they never wanted to be here.

Unless it’s Chungha. She’s always smiling, like she never gets tired. Wondering how the nurse does it, something else crosses his rotten mind.

“Who knows, she might be just another patient playing nurse.” The thought tickles his dark humor, and then Taeyong’s laughing, the boisterous kind, hitting his thighs in pure bliss.

And from the other side of the hall, in a room across Taeyong’s, another patient is observing everyone. When his eyes land on the man with caramel hair laughing alone, he thinks no one’s different, they’re all the same, all twisted and hopeless.

Until the patient with the caramel hair stops laughing and stares right at him from across the hall, from the opposite room. He doesn’t know what it is but he can feel it. The new guy is looking at him, not just into space – the man is specifically staring at him.

Taeyong glares. That patient has been looking at him for the past three days. He didn’t tell Chungha; she doesn’t have to know a lot. But it’s beginning to become a peeve. He was promised that he was going to be left alone, without anyone trying to mess with him.

If this one doesn’t mind his own business, then Taeyong will wreak havoc and he’s not going to regret it.

The door to his room unlocks. Chungha comes in, worry etched on her pretty face. Her hands shoot out to feel Taeyong’s pulse. “I saw you twitching.”

“Don’t mind it. It’s normal.”

“It’s not normal. I’m advised to only give you medicines after every meal. The dinner will not be until 8.”

“I said,” Slowly, like a venomous python, Taeyong turns to her, hands balled into fists and gripping the sheets of his bed. “Stop. Fucking. Concerning. Yourself with me.”

She should’ve seen it, but she’s a stubborn human being, trying to play hero and saving a lost cause. Taeyong, in no time has her pinned against the wall, his forearm blocking her airway. It digs painfully down her throat but she doesn’t attempt to scream, doesn’t attempt to escape. Brown eyes peered up at him, and for a second, she sees red instead of blue.

“You know what I want? Give Jung Jaehyun to me. If you don’t fucking call him I will fucking end every single one of you here and you won’t stop me. I’m not gonna be saved, Chungha. You’re going to take that fact to your grave.”

“Stop…”

Laughter bubbles out of his mouth. “Stop? I’ll have you know all my victims asked me to stop but you know what I did?” His lips brush over hers, light but poisonous. “I did not stop.”

He makes a move to grip her jaw, attempting to snap her neck when a much stronger force pulls him from behind and Taeyong lands on his bed, thrashing.

“Let go of me, fuckers! I want Jaehyun! I said I fucking want Jaehyun!”

Two male nurses hold him down, one pinning his arms while the other holds his legs. Soon he hears the sound of strap and he can’t move a muscle, trying to twist and pry out of the tight confines.

“Get it off me! I’ll fucking kill all of you I swear to fucking God- Jaehyun!” Taeyong’s voice breaks and he feels his eyes sting as he squirms, but the tight leather straps caging him won’t allow him the luxury of a few spaces. “Jaehyun! Come fucking get me, you bastard! Let me fucking go!”

Chungha rubs her neck gently, wincing from the sting. “I hope you didn’t make it too tight. He’s healing from stab and bullet wounds.”

“Have it checked tomorrow. When he wakes up he’s in a straitjacket.” One of the male nurses says before injecting the side of Taeyong’s neck.

In a matter of seconds the thrashing and screaming stop and all that is left is a heavily sedated man pathetically strapped down his bed.

 

0o0o0

 

It’s his fault. He brought this on himself. It’s his own fucking fault for letting his demons take over and mess with his head. Now, he’s enclosed in a straitjacket, avoiding looking into the eyes of the woman he almost killed.

“You need to finish this, Taeyong.”

Pretending not to hear her, he continues to stare into nothing. The blinds are closed today. He can’t see the patient unnervingly giving him the attention he didn’t ask.

A spoon touches his bottom lip. “One last bite and I’ll give you your medicines then I’m gone.”

He takes the food, the sound of his teeth biting down the steel echoes in the room. Taeyong chews once, twice and swallows, before taking the prescribed medicine for his wounds and anxiety.

 _Anxiety_. It’s what they called his unsettling twitching and nail biting, the dread settling in his stomach each time he thinks of the lack of Jaehyun and the amount of people around him.

The nurse opens the door, about to leave when he says something before he could even weigh any existing options.

“Take me to doctor Kim.”

***

“So, you’ve finally decided to come.”

Chungha leaves them for their privacy, gently closing the door. Slouched in his seat in front of the doctor, Taeyong appears to be very much comfortable even though he’s dressed in a straitjacket.

“What made you do it?”

There’s a sound of the pen clicking and Taeyong looks at the doctor, who’s ready to jot down everything he’s going to tell.

“Mm, let me think.” He would tap his finger on his bottom lip for a dramatic, infuriating effect just to get on the doctor’s nerves but his arms are interlocked within the new uniform he has on.

_Fuck it._

So Taeyong opts to lick his lips. “I choked Kim Chungha.”

“Why did you do it?”

“She keeps trying to be close to me and acting like she’s going to save me.”

Scribble. “Why do you think she’s acting that way? Is there a reason for her to do that?”

“I guess so. I’m here because I’m sick, right? That’s why I’m wearing this. Because I’m capable of things no mentally healthy person will do.”

Doctor Kim nods, adjusting his glasses. “Why do you say you’re sick?”

His tongue runs over the pocket of his cheek, absently licking. “I kill people just because I want to. I mean, they give me a reason. The last ones, they were traitors. They worked for my father, but they were two-faced assholes. They deserved it. Don’t chastise me, doctor. They deserved it.”

“How bad was it?” Scribble.

“Because of what they did, I lost my father and my sister. They were tortured to death. I shouldn’t be seeking revenge for things like that, should I? I tortured people for a living. But they came for my family, doctor. No one comes for my family.”

Scribble, scribble. “Is there a reason why they came for your family?”

His head lolls back, neck bent in a dangerous angle for a few seconds while he stares at the ceiling, processing his thoughts before he glances back at the doctor. “We had an existing problem but I doubt it would come to that if I didn’t kill the bastard’s son first. Before you ask me, I did it because I was bored. Do you understand the need to kill, doctor? The _desire_? It sat within me, to the very core of my being, it runs in my bloodstream. The desire to inflict pain is in my nature, doctor. As far as I can remember, because ever since, I hated people and I hated things that don’t go the way I want them to. So I hurt my nurse – because I felt like I needed to. I think, I will find a reason to hurt, no matter what.”

The pen scratches over the smooth paper, draws more black and more words, all from his own thoughts. Doctor Kim reads over what he had written. “You kill for a reason, Taeyong. I don’t think it’s solely due to lack of interesting activities. There’s a need that drives you to do these things. Do you want to do some tests?”

“How many?”

“If you want to get down to this as soon as possible, not that I don’t already have inkling, then we’ll do two now. One will require you to draw and some interpretations will be done. One will require you to complete sentences.”

“Fine.”

Doctor Kim calls a nurse in to have Taeyong’s uniform changed. As soon as he gets back, he’s handed a few blank papers and a pen. “Try not to stab me.”

“Very funny. What’s the first test?”

“It’s a projective personality test. There are instructions printed on the papers I gave you. Read them carefully and once you’re done, hand them over.”

With furrowed brows he goes over the instructions. They’re simple; he just needs to draw one man on a paper, and a woman on the other.

It takes him a few minutes, three at most. The test doesn’t really require him to draw creatively, but it what eats up his first minute is the thought of _who_ he’s possibly drawing.

In the end he writes the names, satisfied with the images he had drawn and hands the papers back to the doctor.

Taeyong watches the emotions across the doctor’s face; the most prominent is the look of understanding.

Doctor Kim puts the papers down, writing over the drawings. “Do you want to hear what I got from these?”

“That I draw like a third grader?”

“No.” Kim Junmyeon turns the drawings around, facing them to Lee Taeyong. “I encircled a few parts of your drawings that had clear interpretations. For both drawings, their strongest features are the razor sharp fingers, like monster claws. It means aggression. The others speak the same volume, with paranoia, depression and anxiety. There are also psychotic features, schizophrenia, tendency to have negative emotions and self-image as well as signs of cautiousness. You have to know that these reflect _you._ I could disregard these if they appeared on one drawing, but they appeared on both, solidifying my theory.”

Taeyong only stops biting his nail when it starts to bleed, wiping the red liquid down his uniform. “Listen, doctor. I won’t tell you I’m normal. I space out, thinking of stuff along the lines of murder, settling issues through violence and there’s always a need to be violent, I’m not kidding. My mood changes drastically in such a short period of time and I can’t help it. If those are the interpretations, they’re most likely true. Even if you give me all kinds of personality test, you will not see anything good, anything normal in me.” His head jerks as he points to the names written beneath the figures. “What’s the purpose of that?”

“These people you have in your mind while drawing these…they’re important to you.”

A hand slams down the desk, startling the doctor. “Bullshit! I don’t give a fuck about my parents! They’re the worst kind of people, Doctor Kim. Do you know? My father abandoned me when I was a kid. He was fucking strong on the outside but he was weak. What kind of a father leaves his family behind? My mother? How can I look up to someone like that? She did nothing but hate me, be ashamed of me. She’s like my father, doctor. They both wanted me gone; they wanted me hidden away from the rest of the world. Is this the result of being cooped up in darkness, hm? From isolation? My parents loathed me. Why would anyone that isn’t my family like me? If they don’t like me, then I shouldn’t like them too. Isn’t that how it works?”

Taeyong chuckles as he shifts in his seat. “How lucky of my sister to die before me. She didn’t live long to see how vile of a monster I became.”  

 Junmyeon nods, placing the papers down with a huff. “Alright. This second test will take a while as you have to complete 60 sentences. They may appear repetitive to you, but they all point into the same direction, validating your thoughts. Please, your first thought is the one you need to write down because it is the realest answer possible.”

He receives five pages of the test, already feeling drained. But Doctor Kim is watching him so Taeyong goes right into it after reading the instructions.

By the time he’s reached sentence no.60, his penmanship has worsened, and Taeyong slams the pen down just the doctor takes the papers. “Is that going to be connected to the other test and what I just divulged to you?”

“Yes. Give me five minutes.”

For five minutes he chews the same broken nail, slightly rocking in his seat while he keeps his eyes busy by looking around, reading the titles on the spines of medical and psychological books. In the background, the pen scratches noisily, grating in Taeyong’s ears.

“Are you ready to listen to me?”

“Sure. I’m not going to lose anything.”

The doctor clears his throat. “To summarize the result, your answers reveal the lack of affection from both parents, especially the father; no close ties with the mother. You expressed interest in dance, the desire to do things in your own way or change the way things are. You have an unconscious fear of being left alone, hostility towards men and women, the desire for affection. You have also emphasized how dysfunctional your family is, the strong will to understand the people around you. You don’t think marriage is necessary. Again, you’ve shown aggressive tendencies, lack of fear when faced with authority, and importance on perfectionism. All of these,” Doctor Kim removes his eyeglasses and sighs, “All the negativities you’ve felt ever since, they compress and manifest in the actions you make. You need to learn how to express yourself properly, Taeyong.”

“You don’t need to tell me anymore, I’ve got them connecting like webs in my head while you talked.” Blood drips down his finger and Taeyong wipes it over his uniform again, staining the white with a little bit of red. “Family issues, alright? I’m aggressive because it’s how I express my thoughts. I was literally kept hidden as a boy, until now that I’m a grown ass man. Without a proper outlet, no one to talk to, violence is always the key for someone like me. The fear of being left alone? Maybe. Though I’ll have you know I don’t fear anything unless we’re talking about my one and only friend; I don’t want him to leave me anymore because he’s the only one that actually got interested in me.”

He leans against the backrest of the seat, challenging the doctor into a stare down. “I want to get out of here as soon as possible, Doctor Kim. If you can suggest things to me, how I can deal with these crap I feel, then do it. Even the smallest thing, I’ll do it.”

“You have to do it for yourself. You have to do it because you want to change, Taeyong.”

The patient’s head is swarmed with a million thoughts at once. This is going to be the first time he’ll ask for help. He wants to change everything about him except for independence. He lived in the streets and survived without anyone’s aid, he killed his enemies without anyone telling him what to do, and he wants to live the rest of his life needing no one else’s support but himself. Taeyong is his own pillar, his own sword and shield.

Even the _obsession_ with Jung Jaehyun, he wants to get over it someday.

“Okay. I’ll attend your therapies. All the checkups.”

“This is not going to be easy. You will fall down a few times. You might even go back to scratch midway. You need to be determined.”

“I _am_ determined, doctor. If you continue to tell me another thing I should do when I already know it, I’m going to fucking sna–“

The doctor holds up a hand. “Let’s begin with the threats. I don’t mind the foul language. It’s normal, a form of expression. But too much is a sign of aggression. You have to moderate that.”

Gritting his teeth, the caramel-head nods in acquiescence. “Alright, dammit. Alright.”

If he wants this, he will hold everything in. Starting now. Starting from not wiping the smug smile off of Kim Junmyeon’s face.

***

The routine goes on for several weeks. Taeyong still skips the morning exercise, having not built the strength and courage yet to join a small crowd of people. After breakfast he takes his prescribed medicines before Chungha takes him for a physical checkup.

His wounds have healed, but the trauma still needs to be given attention regularly. He doesn’t mind the unwanted attention from the other staff only when Chungha is around, serving as his new source of comfort and assurance _and_ a constant reminder that he doesn’t need to hurt anyone else after her.

Expectedly, he should’ve learned to apologize by now. It’s always mentioned in his everyday therapy sessions with Doctor Kim, and the professional had told him that his first ever recipient of a sincere ‘ _I’m sorr_ y _’_ should be Kim Chungha because she’s the closest person to him at the moment, even if there are more people outside that need his apology from worse committed offenses.

Though each time the opportunity offers itself, he chickens out. Not because he’s embarrassed, but because he personally believed that he was offended first, and not by the female nurse but by the man who promised to see him whenever he can. It’s been nearing two months since he entered the facility and Jaehyun’s shadow is still nowhere to be found.

_He shall say sorry first thing when he gets the balls to drop by and see his criminal friend._

So he postpones it, pushes it at the back of his mind and forgets it purposely after each therapy session.

And quite frankly, the therapies help alleviate some of the baleful thoughts and images in his head when the darkness cloaks him at night. He still struggles with them, especially in times he’s reminded of his family during the talk with Junmyeon, as they are the core reason of his destructive personality.

Just like tonight, in the middle of his disturbingly spacious yet empty room, Taeyong sits up in his bed with the ghost of his father projected right in front of him.

He knows it’s not real. He knows it’s his own, unconscious thoughts trying to morph into the hatred that sits still within his heart and mind.

“Hey, you’re dead, aren’t you?” Taeyong sniffs, rubbing his nose. “I’m trying to get my life together now. Without you. I never even needed you.” Lee Namgyu doesn’t move from his spot by the door, staring straight, looking very pallid. The man’s appearance is how he looked like in the photo that was left to them during the hiding. Taeyong’s hands find their way through his hair, pulling as soon as frustration sizzles in his guts, climbing and clinging in every space of his brain. “Can you please get the fuck away now, Namgyu? Please?” He doesn’t even realize he’s begging for the first time. “Go away… Get away from me…”

But Lee Namgyu remains, now speaking, telling Taeyong how much of a disappointment he is for being sick, for being useless, for being an heir no one is going to be proud of.

It sets off the grenade in his heart.

“Get away, father! Leave me alone!”

The lights turn on. Lee Namgyu is gone. There, by the door is none other than his nurse, her pretty face marred with worry.

Chungha rushes to his side, doing her best to calm him down. “Taeyong, Taeyong, look at me. It’s Chungha. Hey, look at me.”

She grips his face with both hands, forcing the pair of blue eyes to meet her deep brown ones. “You’re hyperventilating. Taeyong, just look at me. Follow my breathing, okay? Slowly. Breathe in….breathe out…”

They do it for a minute or two until the patient relatively calms, blurry eyes now blinking back the threatening wetness.

Taeyong pries out of her touch, eyes shifting here and there as though cautious of an unseen entity. “Did you come here alone?”

“I did. What happened?”

“My father came back.”

“Your…father? Isn’t he dead?”

“You think I don’t know? He’s dead. But he was here. Clearly, Junmyeon’s therapies are not enough. I’m always here, not going anywhere, and it’s getting suffoca–“

“Go outside and mingle with the others.” Chungha says flatly. “Don’t you know that isolation and darkness are the main ingredient in a mentally ill’s devastated way of thoughts? Two months have gone like the wind and you need to take another step forward. If you don’t try it, how would you know you’re going to be fine in a crowd?” She grabs a journal from the floor and drops it on his lap – he must have thrown it. “When you’re confused and frustrated, Doctor Kim said write everything down and reflect. Even the most random thoughts. You have to clear your head all the time, Taeyong.”

She turns then, seeing that he’s alright now. Taeyong grips the notebook before calling out. “Chungha.”

“Yes?”

“I’m sorry. And thank you.”

The sight of her bright smile is the last thing he sees before the door closes yet again. Oddly, it lessens the heaviness in his chest, cools the angry heat.

Taeyong flips the journal on a clean page and writes down, scribbling messily.

_Two months._

_I’m still attending Junmyeon’s therapies. Sometimes I sleep well, sometimes I don’t. Tonight I saw Namgyu. He called me a shame in the family. I didn’t get to tell him he lost his family, lost us. But that doesn’t matter. He can visit me again and I’ll remember he doesn’t exist and his words won’t affect me._

_Chungha told me to go out of my room and blend in. I’ll try to. I apologized to her. I don’t know how it makes her feel but I guess it’s good because she smiled at me. I’m forgiven._

_Look, I’m getting better. I’ve been writing for a while now, right? I haven’t stabbed anyone yet with this pen. Hopefully I’ll never do it._

_Two months._

_Jaehyun is still not around._

_I miss him._

_A lot._

 

 

 

0o0o0

 

“It’ll be fine.”

“It won’t.”

“You haven’t even walked in yet.”

“Let’s go back to my room. Or let’s just go to Junmyeon.”

“NO! Get in!”

“I said fucki–“

Chungha pushes him as hard as she can. Taeyong stumbles inside the recreation room, quickly picking himself up and wiping his hands on his white pants. With a glare at the nurse cheering for him from the outside, Taeyong takes a few steps forward and finds his own place at the corner, at the very back.

No one is paying him any attention. The room is not packed this time, but people of all ages are inside. Young, old. A mixture of men and women. The instructor in front shouts, loud voice filling the room to command a group of 22 people.

All of a sudden an energetic song begins, everyone around him is moving, _dancing,_ following the choreography demonstrated by the leader in front.

_Fuck Kim Chungha. This is the fucking morning Zumba exercise. What the fuck._

The leader looks over them, pointing at random patients to give her unwanted opinion. Taeyong, with his sharp jaw clenching, ignores the way Chungha literally doubles over in laughter outside as he begins to move, reluctantly joining the Zumba group with his lifeless dancing.

Inevitably he gets pointed at, but no one else looks at him aside from one or two people, and Taeyong feels the slight buzzing in his veins not because he’s enjoying, but because people are looking at him and he doesn’t like it.

Instead of putting a bit of color in his movements, Taeyong deflates even more. Chungha stops smiling as she notices the familiar twitching of his fingers.

Soon he feels her presence next to him with her hand wrapped around his wrist, tugging. “Look at me.”

Her voice successfully distracts him. It’s the only thing Taeyong hears for the rest of the morning exercise while he concentrates on watching her dance, following whatever she does until he gets the hang of it and the tension vanishes from his body.

He doesn’t even notice how more eyes are on them, particularly on him since he’s a new addition. Taeyong sees nothing but the bubbly nurse, her smile and her graceful movements, mingling with his rare, sounding laughter while the rest of the world around them is in a blur, muted and subdued.

Sheen of sweat coats his skin like second layer when the morning exercise is done. He takes the towel from his assigned nurse and follows her out on the way to the cafeteria. The buzz in his veins is now different from what was tingling earlier and he sticks to Chungha like glue when they walk through the cacophony of noises.

She leads him to a vacant seat, bolted to the ground like the 90% of what’s inside the asylum.

The seat is in between two other patients. Taeyong hesitates, the anxiety quickly settling in.

“Go on. Remember, no one here is out to get you. No one here is as malicious as the people capable of the things you do.”

“So you’re saying I’m the most wicked here.”

Chungha grins. “Exactly. They should be scared of you instead.”

Rolling his eyes, Taeyong dismisses the statement of his nurse before dumping himself on the seat, accidentally knocking the patient’s arm on his right side. The plastic spoon clatters on the table and the caramel-head quickly mumbles an apology, looking right into the eyes of his seatmate.

Turns out, it’s the patient occupying the room across his. The one who frequently stares at him.

“Actually, I take it back. I’m not sorry. You should apologize to me, though. Didn’t your mother tell you staring is rude?”

“Huh?”

“Great,” Taeyong waves at Chungha dismissively, asking her to go. “Aside from being a creep you’re also deaf.”

He starts eating. Reflexively he grips his pocket, grasping something solid inside of it. Taeyong slips a hand in only to pull out a chocolate bar. When did Chungha get so swift?

“My name’s Mark.”

Blue eyes shift to the owner of the voice coming from his right. Taeyong’s face is back to its perpetually unfriendly look, imperceptible and cold.

“I said my name is Mark…”

The creep patient, Mark, repeats as though Taeyong didn’t hear it the first time. He’s gazing expectantly at the caramel-head, obviously expecting a response.

Which Taeyong doesn’t give. The older shoves a spoonful of _Bibimbap_ , the yolk dripping from the corner of his mouth. Eating his breakfast is what he does for the next ten minutes. He can feel the lingering gaze burning on the side of his face, and as much as he wants to bash Mark’s head against the edge of the table, he’s been a very nice patient to Doctor Kim and Taeyong is actually getting serious and dedicated on getting better.

So he ignores the stares. He just opts for imagining holding a metal fork and stabbing it down the naughty hand of his seatmate as Mark screams so enticingly.

Taeyong swats the hand painfully when it’s centimeters away from his chocolate bar and glowers at Mark. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Huh?”

Running out of patience and afraid that he’ll give in to temptations, Taeyong springs out of his seat and finds a less crowded table. This time no one is sitting close to him so his posture slackens, tension absent.

He thought he’d finally get away from the weird guy.

Well, he thought wrong.

Mark follows him like a lost cub, claiming the seat across Taeyong. His eyes, now seen clearly, are wide like saucers, the black staring deep into the caramel-head’s soul.

When Taeyong says it’s unsettling, it’s most likely an understatement. And he hates that people are starting to affect him the way he doesn’t want them to.

Because if anyone’s going to leave a deep impression in this place, it’s him.

The chocolate bar breaks in half beneath the crushing grip of his hand. “What the fuck do you want.”

“The chocolate.”

His brow piques. “ _Oh._ This one?” Taeyong waves the dessert in front of the other patient’s face before making a show of wolfing it down in a few seconds until only a few crumbs remain sticking on his fingers that he licks right away. “It’s gone.”

“Listen, fuckwit. I don’t vibe with the dumb sickos in here. Uh-huh, I’m one of you – at the moment, but I’m just trying not to wreak havoc. I’m usually two seconds away from sticking my fist through anyone’s chest to rip their heart out but I’m _really,_ really trying my best not to. Help me with that.”

The wide-eyed guy nods, like he understands. Taeyong doubts it. Everyone in here shares one brain cell.

Mark doesn’t speak for the next minute as Taeyong chews the rest of the chocolate in his mouth. Some slip out and drop on the table, which he swipes with a finger to lick again, not allowing his unwanted companion to even catch sight of the tiny bits of his food.

When he gets up to grab a drink, planning to head back to the third floor, Taeyong feels the persistent patient follow.

He really doesn’t want to cause another scene. Taeyong doesn’t want to be strapped down and wake up in a straitjacket again. Yet Mark is proving it difficult for him.

The guy clearly wants something. If he gives it, Mark will probably leave him alone.

Taeyong walks out of the cafeteria and heads upstairs, followed by Mark. Before he enters his room, he swiftly turns around, catching the other off-guard, and Mark bumps against him. The blue-eyed immediately allows a fair distance between them.

“Why do you keep staring at me and why do you act like you need something from me? I’ll give you five seconds to answer and if I don’t get the answer I want within five seconds, you’re gonna be crippled for the next month. Time starts now.”

“You look interesting. Let’s be friends.”

It took Mark three seconds. Taeyong stops counting in his head and tosses the juice box over his shoulder, letting his nurse take it. Chungha has been waiting for him to get back.

“ _Interesting?”_ Taeyong snorts. “Poor you. Have you heard of what I did, why I’m stuck in this hellhole?”

The other man shakes his head, hands clenched and pressed tight to his sides.

“I killed people because they didn’t know they couldn’t fuck with me. You can’t fuck with me, Mark.” His eyes harden as he tries to send the message through the other’s thick skull. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

Mark’s eyes dart past his shoulders, glancing at Chungha for a second before he croaks out, sounding deterred. “I just want a friend. I’m… I’ve been in here for a year but,” His lips purse as his head lowers and Taeyong watches as Mark begins to walk to his own room.

Chungha is much too close to him when she whispers. Taeyong doesn’t mind the proximity. “He’s harmless, Taeyong. It won’t hurt to let someone else in. Just try.”

Before he even forms a response, she’s already dragging him to Mark’s room, smiling at the other patient’s assigned nurse. “It’s okay. Doctor Kim advised him to make friends.”

So he finds himself in another person’s sanctuary that looks so much like his, only that there’s a small pile of books in the corner. Taeyong wonders why he doesn’t have books. He probably won’t even flip a page, but boredom does things to a person without much room to walk around, and a mind overflowing with thoughts he’d rather not think about.

The two nurses are gone when Taeyong glances at the window.

“I’m Mark Lee. Twenty two. I’m actually from Canada but my family moved here a decade ago.”

Taeyong chooses to stand against the wall, cautious. His hands hide behind him, palms pressed against the cool concrete. “I don’t want to have friends, Mark. I don’t even know why I’m explaining this to you because clearly, your brain works.”

Mark picks up a book and flips it to page. “I would rather walk with a friend in the dark, than alone in the light. It’s a quote by Helen Keller. Truthfully I was scared of you because you have this strong, dark aura circulating you ever since you came, but that’s also the reason why I want to be close to you. You’re strong. No one else is half as strong as you in here. I would very much appreciate if we talk sometimes. Also, my teacher back in Canada told us that it’s fine if your friend doesn’t consider you their friend. It doesn’t have to go both ways.”

“Tell Helen Keller there are more voices in the dark and the light actually helps. So poetic.”

The book closes and Mark slips it beneath his pillow. “Well she was deaf-blind. And very much dead.”

 Taeyong huffs. “Oops. My bad.” Shifting his weight on the other foot, Taeyong sighs and wonders how long he’s going to be inside the other patient’s room. The sight of his own room just across has never been so inviting and all he wants to do is get locked up, lie down and sleep until he wakes up to his last day in the asylum.

“Do you want to know what I was diagnosed with?”

He’s not interested.

“Kleptomania.”

Now, he’s interested.

“So you were trying to steal my chocolate not because you like but your sick head is compelling you to steal for the thrill of it. Bet you’d steal anything I have even of it means no value to you.”

“Correct.” Mark confirms with a nod as a small smile finds its way on his face. “I’m impressed that you’re very attentive. I didn’t want the chocolate but at that time, I just felt like I should take it. I’m sorry, by the way.”

“It’s Taeyong.”

The sound of his name widens the smile on Mark’s face. “It’s nice to meet you, Taeyong.”

Maybe Chungha’s right. Maybe he should try letting people in, maybe it won’t be so bad. He’s already let her in; he can give Mark a chance. Only that Taeyong wishes they don’t betray him too. Because as strong as independent he is, as indifferent and as heartless, he knows now that some people are worth keeping.

If only that one person he truly needs to see would come see him too.

 

0o0o0

 

The third month of his stay comes.

Taeyong walks next to his assigned nurse, heading to where the fire exit is. Chungha said she’s supposed to be writing a report but is too lazy to do it, so Taeyong proposed something else.

He wants to know about her.

“I’m sorry; if they find me they’re going to ask me to head to the office.” She sits on the floor and thankfully it’s clean. Taeyong settles next to her, his back pressed against the wall. On his right side is the door leading to the emergency exit.

“That’s fine.” A wall blocks them from anyone’s view. The secrecy and concealment is like a breath of fresh air, like he’s back to isolation, only that there’s someone else with him. “This is a good spot.”

“So you said you want to know about me.” Hugging her knees to her chest, Chungha looks at him, her thin fringe covering her forehead. Her hair is down today and Taeyong thinks she looks better like this.

“Yeah. I didn’t prepare questions. This is spontaneous, so. Just tell me whatever you want to tell me.”

Even the sound of her laugh, hushed and wary, is pretty – like the rest of her. “Alright. This is kind of pressuring. But I’m 27. I lived in Dallas for eight years before coming here, thinking I’d enjoy working in Korea. And it’s true. I live alone. My family is in Texas. I like any kind of food, really. Some people might think I’m not fit for this kind of work because honestly, it’s taxing and it’s surprising that I still have all my hair intact from the stress but I wouldn’t choose to do anything else. I won’t exchange it for the world.”

When she finishes, an air of excitement around her, she realizes he’s been staring. “I don’t think you’d want to tell me anything in return. From what I’ve gathered, you’re a very private and a very important person. To the extent that,” Chungha drawls, glancing up as she tries to find anything to compare Taeyong to. “To the extent that if something, even the most useless information slips out, we’re going to have our heads served on a platter.”

“Who told you that?”

“No one. But that’s the strongest description I could think of if ever something goes wrong and your safety’s jeopardized.”

It infuriates him. Taeyong knows that Jaehyun only wants him to be safe. But what he just heard makes him feel helpless, when they know he’s fully capable of standing up for himself. He’s the last one they should worry about when it comes to being protected.

His hands shake. Taeyong hides them and racks his brain for a distraction.

“You said you’d been working here for five years. You should be taking care of another patient instead of me. Why were you assigned to me? Why didn’t they get a new one?”

“You sound like you don’t like me as your nurse.” Her tone is playful. “Kidding. Ah, how should I say this,” Chungha bites her lip while she absently fidgets. “I had a patient. She was…she was nice. She was well-behaved, but she suffered a lot. Doctor Kim was assigned to her, too. Like you, she attended therapies and had a journal where she used to write down every little thing and she would let me read, asked me what I thought.”

Taeyong listens. With nothing to say in particular, he just chooses to listen. And while he does, he hears her voice break, but he doesn’t ask.

“Well,” Chungha says, chuckling a bit. She’s not looking back at Taeyong anymore, afraid that he’ll point out the wetness in her eyes. “She was getting better. But the demons won and I heard the emergency alarm, rushed to her room only to see her already lying in her own pool of blood. I think she wanted to be rescued, but I didn’t run fast enough.”

She’s wiping the tears away now, sniffling. “Jieun was just 23. Then you came, two months later.”

It’s only been five months. The woman must have been important to his nurse.

“I’m sorry for asking. But you shouldn’t have told me.” Taeyong mumbles. He’s much closer now.

Chungha laughs and shakes her head, waving her hands dismissively. “Nooo, I got too sensitive!” The titters just stop when she realizes he’s too quiet and Chungha turns to look at him only to feel something warm press against her lips.

Taeyong is kissing her _._

Her body stiffens. The lips are moving against hers, slowly and gently. She wants to know _why_ , but her mind goes into a haywire when she feels arms wrap around her, pulling her close.

Still, she doesn’t kiss him back, just lets him do whatever he wants. And it’s not because she doesn’t care, not because she likes it, not because she wants to focus.

Chungha’s letting Taeyong do it because sooner or later he’ll do what he’s truly aiming for.

Taeyong starts to pull away. “He–“

The sudden tight grip around his wrist surprises him. Chungha smacks his hand and the keys drop to the floor, jangling noisily.

Taeyong smirks. “I didn’t know you’d be _this_ smart.”

“Clearly, you underestimated me. I’ve been here for years, Taeyong.” She puts the keys back in her pocket and stands up, matching the smirk on his face. “Maybe you should try harder next time. But I’ll tell you now it will be futile to make me swoon over you. Hell, not even the sight of your nakedness when I give you a bath could do it.”

“What is it?”

She turns, starts to make her way out when she tells him.

“I have a girlfriend, Taeyong. Now follow me, it’s time for your afternoon nap.”

Taeyong follows right away. Is she mad? Does he need to apologize for taking advantage of her momentary vulnerability for his own convenience?

 _Fuck off,_ he tells himself, before jogging to her side. Taeyong enters his room and tugs on the sleeve of her blouse. “I’m sorry. I want to escape; I’m getting bored.”

Chungha sighs and gently takes his hand off of her. “It’s not going to work. Wait for it, Taeyong. Once you know not to manipulate people for your own sake.”

***

At this point, he’s not expecting it anymore. But Chungha enters his room and wakes him, tells him to look presentable – as presentable as he can with the same white uniform he’s been wearing for the past three months and his hair continuously growing and uncombed – because someone is at the lounging area waiting for him.

When he arrives and finds Jaehyun, Taeyong doesn’t greet him. He sits down, one leg over the other, hands limp on his lap. They don’t tremble when they’re supposed to because he’s boiling like lava inside. Taeyong mentally curses the pills he just took. Now, he doesn’t have anything to blame if he really punches the life out of Jung Jaehyun.

“Your hair is longer now.” Jaehyun beams, eyeing his tresses. “You certainly look better with long hair.”

“Why are you here?” Taeyong asks flatly.

Jaehyun leans back, the smile faded. “I was busy, Taeyong. I frequently asked for updates from Doctor Kim anyway. I was monitoring you.”

“Monitoring me,” The caramel-head repeats, tone mocking. “Sure you do. So you’re like watching me? Am I on surveillance? What am I, a criminal?”

“Yes, you are. We both are.” The younger’s voice lowers. “I went back to France. I talked to Fort and it wasn’t easy. Everyone knows an Lee Taeyong, so I had to rack my brain, prove that I was a Red Phoenix member. In the end he only needed your birth name, because it’s the one Fort acknowledges.”

Jaehyun pulls out a file from a suitcase and hands it to Taeyong. “It’s the contract I signed. Garnet knew about the treachery, thanks to you. I explained the whole situation and how it’s going to be beneficial to Invictus if we got the projects back. He had no say against it since he knows it was given to him illegally. So I managed to convince him to break the deal with Casanov.”

Taeyong looks at him wide-eyed, hand halfway from flipping pages. “You did?”

“Yes.” The smile is back on Jaehyun’s face and the pride reeks off of him that Taeyong’s hostility dissipates in a snap. “Invictus is already in partnership with Garnet. Right now, there’s an ongoing renovation to the headquarters and we’re literally so busy. There are nights no one even sleeps. And get this,” He leans in, voice softer than before. “The news about the auction reached Garnet. Why wouldn’t it, all these groups talked about was you. He terminated Cygnus and Venandi.”

 _Cygnus and Venandi._ It’s been a while since he heard the names of these mafia organizations.  “Termination? You mean to say – all operations are down?”

“Terminated operations, their connections, reputation and status – all wiped out. Garnet had them panhandling on the ground. I was told that every member of those organizations will not be able to leave France.”

“Wow,” The caramel-head huffs, stunned. “Why would Garnet go out of their way to do that?”

“That’s what I wanted to know, too. But truly, Garnet treasured the relationship with Red Phoenix better, deeper than what I thought.”

“Fort told me that they like to know their partners better.” Taeyong dumps the file back on Jaehyun’s lap. “I guess we should be thankful Fort has this crazy attachment to his dead business partner.”

“You will never say you’re grateful, Taeyong.” Jaehyun chuckles, shaking his head as he stuffs the file back in the suitcase.

Taeyong casts a side glance at the entryway, checks whether someone’s within earshot. “In three months I learned to hold my temper, though I’m still struggling from time to time. Within three months I let someone get close to me, and probably another one. Within three months I managed to stay in a room full of people. Within three months I learned to apologize when I know I let my irrationality get the best of me.”

The atmosphere changes drastically – from high up to down low. Taeyong holds the eye contact, refusing to back down even as Jaehyun’s face begins to soften up. He won’t be forgiving this time. He needs to let him know. “In three months I was wondering when you’d be visiting. Yet after three months I’m still _obsessed_ with you. I know you didn’t promise an exact date and time, but Jaehyun,” Taeyong sing-songs, eyes blank as they invisibly grill the Invictus heir. “You know you’re my strongest medicine.”

“I know.” A shy pink tongue teases on the seams of Jaehyun’s lips, wetting. “And I apologize. I’m being a bad friend to you.”

“At least you’re aware of it.” The patient pulls back, posture now relaxed. “Anyway if you still want to know how I’m doing, I’m not doing much. You must know my routine here. What’s only thrilling is that I have a personal nurse that gives me a bath so I wouldn’t exert much effort.”

“It’s because they’re preventing patients from getting ahold of objects that will be potentially used against them. How many times will anyone have to tell you?”

Taeyong smirks, rubbing a thumb over his lips. “Oh, they sure know what’s up.”

The sound of a phone ringing interrupts Jaehyun just as he’s about to open his mouth. Doyoung’s name flashes on the screen before he mutes it and hurriedly gets off the seat. “I’m sorry again, Taeyong but like I’ve said earlier we’re very busy right now. We’re still trying to reach out to the clients since Invictus is a whole lot different from Casanov. A lot of video conference, and it probably will require me to fly here and there soon. There’s so much to work on.”

Jaehyun stands before the blue-eyed patient and hesitates for a second as his hand lingers a few inches away from Taeyong’s hair. In the end he chooses to indulge himself with nothing, because after months of being inaccessible, it’s what he deserves.

“I don’t know when I can visit again. But I will. I’ll see you later, Taeyong.”

Azure eyes are pinned on the expanse of Jaehyun’s wide back as he walks away. Taeyong’s lips part a bit, inhaling sharply.

“If you won’t, then I will.”

He walks to where Chungha is, distracting her with a quickly made up summary of his conversation with Jaehyun just so she won’t look at his twitching hands.

0o0o0

Birthdays don’t actually matter to him, at least. He doesn’t even know his friend’s birthday, but every other day Taeyong has mentally wished him well, wished Jaehyun a longer life.

It’s after another talk therapy with Doctor Kim when he’s reminded, having forgotten since it’s been ages that it was given importance.

“When is your birthday, Taeyong? Mr. Jung did not give us an exact day, only that you were 26 when you entered the facility. And it’s been seven months.”

Taeyong clicks the pen again and again. It’s become a habit that Doctor Kim gave up trying to tell him to stop. “What month is it, Doctor Kim?”

“August.”

“My birthday was a month ago.”

The last celebration he remembers was when he was still young, small but already deadly. He welcomed July 1st, exactly at twelve midnight in the middle of mastering the art of knife throwing, wishing that his father would surprise him when the sun comes up.

Lee Namgyu didn’t come. He stopped believing in the concept of birthdays.

“Very well,” Kim Junmyeon says, sighing. “Then we’ll just celebrate it next time.”

The underlying message makes Taeyong smile – wicked and vile. “That’s very bold of you to assume I would still be here by next year. Don’t you have to help me get out of here as soon as possible, isn’t that your job?”

“You’re right. But if you haven’t noticed yet, I’m starting to sound like you for we’ve been having these therapies for innumerable times.”

Whether the doctor had said it on purpose or not, the thought of reversing the situation makes Lee Taeyong’s stomach churn in malicious excitement. In the end, he still one-ups all of them.

***

When he agreed to enter the asylum, he was expecting to welcome boredom and the constant need to escape, to ruin and to reject. He doesn’t expect that it won’t be as bad as he thought when surprised keep coming his way.

Mark never stopped after that first decent conversation. Taeyong doesn’t even remember when he actually let Mark stick close to him, but days and days passed by, and they’re becoming harder to find without the other.

They’re not exactly friends and not enemies either. He doesn’t know what they are. It doesn’t matter. He won’t keep people he won’t need in the long run.

The surprises don’t stop there for they manifest into another thing that he, in his whole life, will never be able to think of.

Chungha leaves him in the lounging area together with five other men.

“Invictus’ little squad. To what do I the pleasure of having you here in my kingdom?”

“Jaehyun sent us here to visit you.” Doyoung supplements. “We have fifteen minutes max to stay here. We can just stare at each other if you want, but I’m not very good at it. How long can you stare without blinking, Johnny?”

“Ten seconds? Fifteen?”

“That’s not very entertaining.” Taeyong brings his feet on the chair and drums his fingers over his knees. “You know, when you’re confined in an asylum with limited places to go to, it gets tiring pretty fast. Normally I wouldn’t give a fuck but update me about your,” The patient gestures at the couples sandwiching Doyoung. “Your sexual rendezvous. Relationships are not my strong suit, so please, amuse me.”

The first to protest is Ten. “Why would I tell you about it?”

“You’re right. You don’t have to tell me when I’ve already seen it. Remember? Are you still using that butt plug, Leechaiyapornkul? Or is Invictus stricter than Red Phoenix about this whole dating thing?”

“It really isn’t your business, Taeyong.” Yuta’s eyes roll so hard that Taeyong hopes they fall out of the sockets. “We can go on about this for the remaining 11 minutes if you want. Or maybe you could be nice and ask someone to give out food?”

Taeyong’s brows furrow as cold blue eyes glare at the Japanese, and Sicheng who is too busy tapping fingers on his phone to spare him a single glance. “You’re the visitor. You’re supposed to be the ones giving me food to eat. Do you know that the meals here are very repetitive that they don’t taste anything anymore? Even my own spit tastes better.”

“Gross.”

“I know, cheeky arsonist. You better work on your conversational skills and span of attention. Ever since that trouble with Dragonaire, I’ve become more vocal than you and you thought there was something wrong with me.”

Doyoung chimes in, slamming a bag of chips on the table. “Is there none?”

Taeyong grins, taking the junk food and immediately consuming it. “The list is too long for us to find out how many they are.”

It goes on just like what Yuta said, the childish and aimless banter lasting for the rest of their visitation time.

When Chungha leads him back to his room, she doesn’t leave instantly and hands him a bag of gummy bears. “Do you want to tell me who they are?”

“Just some people who hate my guts.”

“Do they have a valid reason to feel that way?”

“Of course they do. You’d be crazier than me to hate someone who did nothing wrong.”

The nurse shakes her head before heading for the door. “Mark is joining the morning exercise so I’ll be here again to wake you early. He said he’ll go if you’ll go.”

“Sure.” Taeyong zips the bag of gummies close and slides it beneath his pillow as he turns in. “Good night, Chungha.”

“Night, Taeyong. Sleep well.”

***

He doesn’t sleep well. In fact, he’s been struggling again. From time to time, Chungha rushes to her assigned patient’s room, finding Taeyong hurting himself – punching, scratching, choking himself. The man would scream, thrash and kick and call names that they do not recognize. She can only deduct their identities to be significant to the patient. She doesn’t know why Taeyong needs to press the emergency alarm whenever it happens but Jieun’s face crosses her mind each time the caramel-head breaks down, and maybe it’s a reminder that she can redeem herself through him, that this time she can save him before it’s too late.

It’s nearing December and winter is around the corner. Doctor Kim had advised her to keep an eye on him, as Taeyong once mentioned heinous crimes committed in the past happening during the season. He believes that the change in weather will affect the man’s mood as well as his behavior.

And Kim Junmyeon is right.

Because on the last night of November, nearing the end of autumn and the beginning of winter, the emergency alarm goes off. When they arrive in front of his room, Chungha sees him banging his head against the wall, the blood already trickling down all the whites it reaches.

It takes three male nurses to put him down, with Taeyong managing to pry out of one’s hold and twisting their arm around, breaking it. The sound of bone dislocating revolts her that she escapes the scene to empty her stomach, unable to watch as Taeyong is once again losing his battle with himself.

It’s heartbreaking, to say the least. Taeyong was getting better. But he has his moments of weakness, and whatever that keeps clawing in his mind, gnawing at his efforts to change, she wants to get rid of it. She can’t afford to lose another person in her care.

He gets sedated for the second time. Just as he’s falling on the verge of sleep, when another nurse comes in to take the one he injured and the remaining two carry him to have his wound stitched, Taeyong mumbles, drowsily staring at something on the ground.

“Stop hurting Olivia, please… Olivia….”

 

 

 

The straitjacket doesn’t get taken off of him. Taeyong is back to scratch, getting fed by his nurse because he’s not allowed to go out of his room again. Sometimes he finds Mark looking at him through the open blinds, and he’s glad that he’s always so drowsy from more prescribed pills that he can’t read the emotions in the other patient’s eyes – whatever those might be.

Days pass by, slowly and painfully as they remind Taeyong that it’s been a year since the shenanigans in Paris. Snow piles outside once again and they indulge in free jackets (Taeyong chooses to wear the clothes Jaehyun packed for him) to get warm in, more blankets and a perfectly working heater. The meals warmed his stomach even more and for the rest of the day, aside from being visited by Chungha for the meals and bath time, he spends the hours either staring into nothing or thinking, thinking, _thinking_ of things he wants to do once he leaves the asylum.

And everytime he thinks of what he wants to, he comes up with nothing. He doubts he’ll be given a role in Invictus. They won’t need a problematic tormenter, now that Jaehyun is in control. Maybe he’ll stay cooped up in his own room.

But he wants to do _something_. Taeyong bets that he’ll be even crazier without anything to distract his fragile state of mind. He wants to laugh. He feels it bubble in his chest upon realizing that he’s basically useless outside of Red Phoenix. Lee Namgyu wanted someone like him because he’s violent, ruthless and horrifying, able to do the dirty works they frequently had.

Would Invictus even need his service?

Is staying here far better than being freed?

And while he continues to think, while he forces his already worn out brain to come up with a solution to all the questions that manage to arise and give him stress, Christmas has arrived like another ordinary morning.

“Where are the others?” He stands by the window, open blinds allowing him to have a look of the hallway. It’s particularly empty. Even Mark is not in his room.

Chungha busies herself with fluffing his pillow and fixing the sheets, humming softly at his question. “They’re all in the recreation room. The patients are very excited to do the exchange gift.”

Taeyong glances at her through his obstructive caramel fringe. He hasn’t cut his hair yet and it’s been proving to be frustrating to constantly blow the bangs away from his eyes. He’d use his hands to part them, to comb them to the side but ever since the last outburst, he’s been dressed in the straitjacket, only taking it off for when he takes a bath. “What are their gifts?”

“The drawings and letters made in the art class.”

“I haven’t attended the art class in a month.”

“Don’t worry,” The nurse appeases, smiling at him. “Your name was excluded in the draw lots. You don’t have to give anyone anything.”

He would very much _love_ to give Jaehyun something. Maybe next time when he’s finally given more room to move about.

“Can you take me to the  recreation room? I want to watch them.”

Chungha’s face frowns in worry. “Tae–“

“I’ll stay outside. You can stand next to me. Just to make sure. I’m really bored, Chungha.”

It may be the huge, innocent eyes or the tired, broken voice, but the nurse eventually gives in to his request and holds him by the arm as she takes him to watch the mini party through the window.

An elderly woman is in front, giving a speech. From where he is, he can’t hear any sound from the inside but he can read her lips. The old patient is saying something about happiness and missing her grandchildren, before talking about the person she’s going to give her gift to.

Her present was a portrait of a basket of fruits sitting by the window as the sunlight pours through the drapes. She says it symbolizes hope, that no matter how far, no matter how little and held back you feel at the moment, the sun will shine another day to give people another chance.

They give her applause and one of the nurses asks the two to pose for a photo.

When Taeyong lets his eyes wander, they land on Mark’s figure sitting in the middle, holding his own drawing. A smile splits the younger patient’s face in half. He almost looks pure and innocent until blue eyes catch sight of a silly movement on the floor, where Mark’s hand creeps inside a young, female patient’s snack basket.

“You can join another party, Taeyong. Soon.”

“I don’t really care if I don’t. I’m very much satisfied with how I’m doing right now. I’m just bored, alright.”

Chungha nods, eyes trained on the bliss emanating from the recreation room. “What gift would you like to receive?”

“A set of throwing knives.”

The answer surprises her. “Why would you want knives?”

“So I can show you the talent I have. I’m really good at knife throwing. It’s an art, did you know?”

“Ah, no.” She chuckles lightly. “Then I would love to see you give an outstanding performance sometime.”

The party finishes an hour later. The patients pile out with their nurses, and when Mark exits he excuses himself from his nurse to approach Taeyong. There’s an undeniable glint in the younger patient’s eyes. “Taeyong, I made you something.”

Mark hands it out, realizing a few seconds later that Taeyong cannot hold it. A blush blooms on his cheeks. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you. But here,” He turns the paper up to show his masterpiece. “Guess who.”

Taeyong looks at the art, subtly admiring it. “You got my face accurately.”

“I was an art student. Do you like it?”

“I do.”

The Canadian man hands the drawing to Chungha, grinning. “Merry Christmas, Taeyong. See you later.” Then he walks back to his nurse with bounce in his steps.

“Hmm, this is exceptional.”

“I want you to tape them on the wall next to my bed. Does he have a sign on it?”

“He does.” Chungha giggles and holds his arm. “Let’s go back to your room?”

“Fi–“

“Chungha,” They both turn to the source of the voice, the stuck up head nurse. She’s almost twice Taeyong’s age and he feels like the woman never liked him. She’s always snarling whenever he’s in sight. “Someone’s in the lounging area for #47.”

Taeyong is expecting no one. But Chungha wastes no time, afraid of striking the wrong nerve. She brings him to the lounging area where Jaehyun is, immediately leaving to give them some privacy.

“Everytime I come, we’re the only ones in here. Doesn’t anyone else get visitors?”

“You talk as if you come often. You’ve only visited twice. This is the second time.”

Jaehyun smiles, impressed. “I brought you books. And I see you’re wearing my sweater over the uniform. Though it looks funny since the sleeves are hanging limply on the sides.”

“Don’t fuck with me or I’ll break my own bones just to get out of this fucking straitjacket and snap your neck.” Doctor Kim’s voice rings in his head, reminding him to tone down the threats. That’s the one Taeyong knows he won’t change. Ever. “What are those books?”

“Politics and business?”

Taeyong releases a long sigh, face blank. “I’m not an Invictus heir, Jaehyun. I don’t need that.”

“Just to keep yourself updated. And I’m not an heir anymore.” There’s a smug look on the younger’s face when he leans back, hands clasped together. “I’m leading Invictus now. I’m the Kingpin.”

The news ignites something in Taeyong’s chest – something close to pride, but he keeps his face imperceptible, and his eyes dull behind the messy fringe. “Good for your ambitious ass. I believe you’re not about to trample anyone anymore just for you to reach your goals.”

“I’m doing everything with the help of my advisors. The squad, they’re still doing some field work but they’re mainly my assistants now. I’ve established the same official ranking policy from Red Phoenix because I had to evaluate all employees. I had to know who’s valuable and who’s not. Well, it’s my word over anyone else’s, and father could do nothing about it.”

“How creative, how trustworthy. You know what happens to very trusting Kingpins.” Sarcasm drips thickly from Taeyong’s mouth. “Anything else you want to tell me about the organization? So that I won’t be as clueless as a stray dog when I come back. I’d make myself useful by not being an idiot.”

Jaehyun glares, not liking the insinuation. “You’ll never be useless, Taeyong. If you really want to know, I’m still trying to stabilize the business transactions with other countries. Some are testing my patience. Apart from that, everything is going just the way they should be. Oh, except for occasional glitches in the system.”

“Glitches?”

“They happen at least once a month. Like there would be traffic in the mails and online transactions and some files, useless files will be missing. Doyoung’s team restores them in seconds anyway. I think it’s just the computers fucking up.”

 _I don’t think it’s just a simple glitch but since you’re very high profile now and still drunk from the ecstasy of succeeding, I’ll let you figure it out,_ Taeyong thinks, holding back a smirk. “That’s unfortunate. A first-rate mafia like you can’t afford bugs and pests.” 

“I agree.” Jaehyun nods, features now softer. “Your hair is growing back to the length it was before. Will you cut the sides again? You know, like the overgrown mullet you had.”

Blue eyes squint at coal black ones, searching. “I see the fixation is still there.”

“I think I’m fixated on _you_ now than your hair.”

Before his mind comes up with a witty response, Taeyong feels his back hit the nearest wall, both him and Jaehyun hidden from the eyes of many.

Demanding lips press against his. Taeyong doesn’t have a reason to deny Jaehyun so he eagerly kisses back, groaning in between the messy, needy lip-lock. Greedy hands wander all over him, to feel anything they can reach, just as an equally greedy tongue licks inside his mouth to swirl around his, coaxing Taeyong’s tongue in a duel.

Heat surges in his body, thickening the blood that runs in his veins, quickening the speed of his heart. When Jaehyun’s mouth leaves his only to latch itself on the side of his neck, right on his pulse point, his legs tremble in overwhelming pleasure. Not to mention that the younger seems hell-bent on making him crumble with the teasing rolls of hips, hard-ons pressing against each other.

He’s already panting from the sudden make out, having been denied the sexual pleasure for a long time. Taeyong admits that in times his hands are free from imprisonment, they find solace beneath his pants, curled around his rigid length and stiff balls caused by the indecent images of Jung Jaehyun.  

His lewd train of thoughts continues, now lead into a more salacious array of memories when teeth sink into his skin, breaking it. A tongue quickly laps over the small beads of blood that ooze from the shallow wound.

“Fucking hell, Jaehyun. Get this fucking jacket off of me I can’t fucking move my hands and I wanna touch you.”

“Shh. Don’t be loud.”

Taeyong’s chuckle is breathy as Jaehyun’s mouth continues to leave feather light pecks and ticklish licks on his skin and over the seams of his lips. “It doesn’t matter. Everyone is going to know one way or another.”

“What?” Jaehyun stops, confused.

Taeyong points at the CCTV with his puckered lips. “We’re basically giving them a free show.”

“Fuck,” Jaehyun swears, a hand shooting up to cover his mouth in mortification. “Why the hell didn’t you tell me?!”

“You were the one who attacked me.” Taeyong shrugs before glancing down to his crotch. “How troublesome. I’d have to ask Chungha to let me out of this uniform for a sec just so I can jerk off properly.”

“The nurse?”

Taeyong’s brows pique in amusement as he looks back at Jaehyun. “Yes. She gives me a bath everyday. Don’t be jealous, you had my body in better ways than she’ll ever do.”

“Shut up.” Red really suits Jaehyun, especially when it’s on his cheeks. “I have to go now. I’m having a conference with Fort in an hour.” He walks back to the seats and grabs his suitcase before stealing a kiss on Taeyong’s lips and whispering another labored ‘ _Merry Christmas_ ’.

“Good luck with blue balls.” Taeyong hurries back as a response as Jaehyun leaves before cursing under his breath when Chungha enters the lounging area, flashing a bright smile.

“I would say something but I don’t really want to be choked again.”

“Ha ha, very funny. Take me back to my room. Get the paper bag on the seat, he left that for me.”

She doesn’t say more and follows his orders, taking the paper bag filled with books and leading him back to the room. Taeyong, still forbidden to be released from the straitjacket, flips the pages of the business book with his foot.

“Goddammit.”

When he turns to the middle of the book, a white paper is stuck on it and Taeyong immediately flips it around, squinting at what’s written.

Slowly, a smile creeps on his face and brightness replaces the dullness in his deep blue eyes as he reads the series of letters and numbers.

“Merry Christmas to me, indeed.”

_How careless of you, Jaehyun. Why would you use a legal document as your bookmark? Now I know which car to find when I finally leave this cursed place._

 

0o0o0

 

December finishes just like that before another month passes by, then another, and another. Spring is on full bloom in April, and Taeyong greets it with news that he can wear the ordinary uniform again.

It seems like Kim Junmyeon approves of whatever he’s getting from the therapies. There really wasn’t anything new they talked about, except for the emotions the doctor described as _confusing._ If even a professional finds a hard time coming to a conclusion regarding Lee Taeyong’s feelings towards Jung Jaehyun, then what about him? Taeyong thinks he’s obsessed because Jaehyun looks at him the way no one else does; it can’t even compare to the brief attraction Risa Uehara felt for him. But Doctor Kim pointed out how there’s a possibility that it’s more than just a shallow obsession, that Lee Taeyong is capable of something along the lines of…. _romance._

To which he laughed at.

Because he already knows it.

It’s just that he can’t believe how someone like him is able to _love_ another person, _care_ for another person, _desire_ another person in ways he never did before. What’s more ridiculous for him is it’s Jung Jaehyun, the new Red Phoenix guy, the accidental babysitter, the one who deliberately shamed him for sins he never did just to climb the power ladder, the person who almost killed him, and now the Kingpin of a first-rate mafia group.

Fate works in ridiculous ways.

Taeyong is too cruel for such a pure emotion. He believes he’ll never have the kind of life people who are not like him possess. He’ll never _love_ a person the way Johnny and Ten do.

And it’s not because he’s incapable of it.

It’s because he knows he doesn’t deserve it.

***

Time flies fast when Taeyong sets his mind into the future, on the imagined day he’s going to be out of this prison. He had already pictured it in his head, planned systematically, and all he needs is the perfect opportunity to arise.

He’s not lying when he said he’s smart enough to improvise the way to a successful escape.

Time flies fast and it’s July again. After that Christmas, Jaehyun dropped by two more times. Once in February, on the day of Valentine, coincidentally the man’s birthday as well, and once in May.  

It’s too soon for Jaehyun to visit again, so he frowns when Chungha tells him someone’s waiting in the lounging area after greeting him a cheery _happy birthday!_

Mark gave him another gift. This time it’s a drawing of the chocolate bar he tried to steal on their first official meeting.

Léonie sits properly, wearing a simple dress just perfect for summer. Her hair is now shaved to a length just barely touching her shoulders. And she looks like a few years were added into her lifespan. Taeyong wonders if it’s the fortunate life in Invictus that did it. He supposes it’s a good thing.

He takes the seat opposite hers. His blue eyes stare into equally blue ones and he hates the fact that she’s literally a reminder that Taeyong is related to her.

“If you want to greet me a happy birthday, keep it. The people here already did it for me. It’ll just be repetitive.”

Despite the coldness, she still manages a smile, one that is genuine albeit forced. “…Happy birthday, Taeyong.”

His eye twitches. _This woman never fucking listens right away._

“It’s…I’m not going to dawdle and beat around the bush. I want to apologize for only having the courage now to see you.” Her smile begins to falter. Taeyong’s eyes trail the lines of ageing in her features and instead of ruining her beauty, they oddly give her more radiance. “It’s been 18 months since you left Invictus without a goodbye.”

“Tch. No one needed me to bid them a goodbye. Why,” Taeyong scoffs in disdain. “Were you expecting me to come say hey, mother I’m just going to the asylum because I’m off the charts crazy, see you later? Like I’m heading to a convenience store? You’re fucking infuriating, Léonie. You make me _sick._ ”

Just thinking of her trying to hug him and wishing to see him soon makes him want to regurgitate.

The words drive through her heart like stake and she winces visibly, pinching the sides of her dress. “I know.” _Liar. You will never know._ “And I understand that you will never forgive me now.” _It’s surprising you’re smart enough to predict that._ “Just… I wanted to apologize because I’ve never… I’ve never tried to redeem myself, and when I had the chance I let it go because I was a coward.” Her voice breaks and she looks like she’s on the brink of crying, but she holds it back with a slight clearing of her throat. “I’ve told you before but I’m very sorry for the things I did and for the things I should’ve done but I didn’t.” Léonie sighs, composing herself. “I don’t deserve a son like you.”

“Damn right you don’t.” Taeyong’s voice roars that it startles her. His blue eyes are on fire, the deadliest they’ve ever been. He doesn’t give a damn if he hurts her, he doesn’t give a damn if she takes back her apology and realizes seeing him wasn’t worth it. Right now he just wants to give back the pain he’s stored for years and years of putting up a strong front so that no one will break down the walls he made up for himself. “In fact, you shouldn’t even have birthed me. How cruel of you. One parent already abandoned me and Olivia, but that didn’t stop you from neglecting me.”

Taeyong recalls everything in his childhood and gets no happy memories, not even one. He doesn’t know if he should laugh or cry because he was a cursed child, like she called him then,  that from a fresh age he had learned to shut himself down, which a normal kid shouldn’t have the worst luck of doing.

“The only thing I’m glad you did was you never treated her the way you treated me. I know I was fucked up ever since. But did you have to be ashamed of me? Did you have to deny me of the love and care I needed? Because for fucks’ sake I’m fucking suffering now.” His voice booms in the lounging area, but Taeyong doesn’t care. Let everyone hear how much of a lost cause he is from the start. “I’m suffering from the consequences. You and what people say are more important than I’ll ever be. You never gave me the fucking…” Taeyong pauses, struggling to admit his real emotions, to dig up the buried truth. “The fucking attention I craved and now I’m fucking doing it wrong!”

Léonie listens, watches him as he unravels before her. She tries to contain her emotions because someone needs to do it for the both of them. And as Taeyong continues to break, she remains there, watching her son’s demeanor take the plunging direction.

Taeyong is trembling, his jaw clenching from how hard he’s trying not to charge, trying not to give in to the demons whispering in both of his ears. “I can’t love people the right way because I never knew how it’s done. I’m _miserable_ , Léonie.” When he says it, she almost hears the cracks as she feels herself break into more pieces. “I know I have a lot of sins and I’m at fault for letting them happen.” His voice softens yet it still speaks the same volume of hatred. “But do you know that one thing I’ve always wished for but was too mad to admit? Ask me.”

She blinks away the tears. “What is it?”

It must be an illusion, a trick to her blurry vision, but she swears she saw the blue windows to his soul turn mellow, shattered.

What Taeyong says next confirms that she’ll never be able to sew the torn strings of her heart ever again.

“I wished you were there to stop me during the times it was too dark and I had to paint it red so I could see.” The patient stands up, straightens his uniform. Taeyong’s face is back to how stoned it usually is, thoughts and feelings inaccessible. “If you don’t have anything else to say, then I’m leaving.”

“Wait!” Léonie shoots up, a hand fishing in her pocket for something. “I haven’t given you my gift yet….here.”

A line forms on Taeyong’s forehead. “What is it.” He takes it, flips it around and stares at the picture of Léonie, him and Olivia. There are smiles on their faces, except for him. His thumb rubs over his sister’s face before he remembers the last picture of hers that he got – of her naked, carved and tortured to death.

All because of him.

Taeyong may be crazy, he may think he’s incapable of love but he _loves_ his innocent sister the most, _loved_ her even before love was reintroduced to him. Taeyong will always love Olivia more than anything in the world.

Not even the chocolates, not even the cigarettes, not even the pleasure of killing, and not even Jaehyun.

Something drops on the photo, wetting it.

“I thought maybe you miss her now. So I–“

Léonie doesn’t finish what she wants to say because Taeyong drops on his knees in front of her, grips on her dress as he sobs his heart out. The sound of his cries echoes into the entirety of the floor, loud and clear, painful and broken beyond repair.

“Why,” Taeyong asks, eyes continuously releasing salty tears. “Why did you have to hate me, mother? I could’ve stayed. You could’ve tried to pretend I was normal; you could’ve searched for me, kept me and told me you didn’t want me to go even if it was a lie. I could’ve stayed with Olivia and now she’s fucking gone, Namgyu’s fucking gone before I could kill him for leaving us. Why, mother?” He peers up at her distorted image. “Why did you not love me enough to make me stay? Why did you fucking forsake me?!”

He almost rips her dress from how tight and merciless he’s gripping it that some nurses take it upon themselves to prevent more damage from being incurred, tearing him away from her.

No resistance comes from him, only agony as he’s taken away.

Taeyong is too immersed in his own despair to hear her say ‘ _I love you_ ’ and feel the silent anguish it contains because even if he heard her, he will never believe it.

 

 

***

He doesn’t see her again for the next months. In fact, no one comes to visit him when July ends and August comes, until December hits for the second time around. He continues on with the routine he has picked up over the course of time, finding himself joining in a few art and cooking classes and sitting in socializations, just watching the other patients participate in silly games and activities organized to hone their attitude and behavior, as preparation once they’re ready to face the outside world again.

Taeyong picks up one or two lessons during the chances he allowed himself to feel, to relate and to fit in.

He learns that it’s nice to talk. He learns that it feels nice not to bottle up his thoughts and wait for them to sizzle until they explode. He learns that he can say anything he wants and it doesn’t matter that they don’t understand, as long as he lets it out, lets the anger and the hatred and all the negativities out in the open because when he did it once in the past socialization he decided to participate in, there was a sudden feeling of cold relief washing in his system. It was soothing.  

Like he was normal for a day.

It was not easy standing in front of a group of more than 40 people with all of their eyes on him, ranging in different colors and sizes, encompassed with expectations and dancing with various emotions. It was not easy. He wanted to lash out, to scream at them not to look at him because he felt exposed, he felt scrutinized and he hated attention.

But he stood throughout the whole five minutes of it, shared his thoughts about being in the asylum, being away from the cycle he already knew, being with people who were substandard in comparison and finished it with a grin on his face because he managed to insult them and still, they never understood. Except for Mark. He was slightly petulant.

Chungha was happy for him. That night, she told him she was proud to see he was trying.

That same night, Taeyong thought she was smart and dumb at the same time because he wasn’t trying to change. He was only trying to keep up.

Because all of this will come in handy in the future.

And that day has come, exactly on his second Christmas in the facility after the traditional exchange gift. This time he was included and Taeyong gifted a young patient with his origami, done with hard work. They were all animal origamis.

Mark drew him another picture. It’s of them together. Taeyong pasted it next to the chocolate bar portrait stuck on the wall.

It’s freezing outside. The patients are in the cafeteria for lunch and they get ham and cheese on their plates aside from the local food. Taeyong thinks it’s a very, _very_ special day.

Correction – Taeyong _knows_ it’s a very special day.

Mark sits next to him, stabbing the ham with the opposite end of his plastic spoon. “Why are you not eating? Don’t you like it?”

“I could ask you the same thing. Why are you playing with your food, shit-for-brains? You’re supposed to eat it.” Taeyong deadpans before getting out of his seat and padding out of the cafeteria. Mark quickly follows.

“Where are you going?”

“Executing my plans.”

Mark frowns, chewing the corner of his lip. “What are you talking about? Taeyong, we’ve been close for some time now but I still don’t get you.”

“Don’t worry your pretty little head, Mark.” Taeyong says as he slips into the hallway leading to the clinic. All the doctors and some nurses who are not in the cafeteria with the patients are having their break as well in the dining area only meant for them. “You’ll see.”

Taeyong stops before the door to the clinic, eyeing the CCTV perched on the corner. “Where are our assigned nurses?”

“Minjun is on his break. Chungha…I don’t know. She’s your nurse.” The younger answers with a sarcastic tone that the blue-eyed dismisses in favor of slipping quietly inside the clinic with Mark following behind like a puppy.

He quickly rummages the cabinets for a particular bottle, knocking over a few of them and nonchalantly steps over the broken pieces that scattered on the floor. Mumbling, he tells Mark to be careful of the slippery floor.

A minute later he finds it. Liquid sedatives. Taeyong shakes the bottle and regards Mark with malice dripping from his eyes. “Listen. I’m leaving this place.”

His words don’t process until three seconds later and Mark’s eyes widen in disbelief. “You’re leaving?”

“I’ve been waiting for 23 months and I’m perfectly fine but it looks like they want to suck in more money from the fucker who put me in here.” Jaehyun’s face instantly flashes in his mind and the thought of seeing the other in a few hours exhilarates him to the bones, exciting his heart. “Do I even look like I’m crazy? Be honest. What did you think of me when you first saw me?”

Without hesitation, Mark answers. “I thought you were too handsome to be here.”

Taeyong smirks, pocketing the bottle and says nothing more when they exit the clinic. It’s forbidden for patients to enter premises only meant for the staff but no one is currently around, making it easier for Taeyong to execute the plan he had been thinking of for months.

He peeks through the small gap on the door and sees that the doctors and nurses are busy talking in the middle of their lunch. After quickly telling Mark not to interfere, he wrenches open the distribution board on the wall and switches off the power supply in the whole building.

Murmurs in the dining area begin and Taeyong takes advantage of the dark to slip in, spills the whole content of the bottle in the water dispenser and exit the area in a matter of seconds.

When he comes out, Mark is slack jawed that the caramel-head almost feels both apologetic and amused. “They all drink from that dispenser, right?”

“I think so…”

“Good enough. That will take effect as soon as they all feel thirsty and need something to push the food down their throats. That’s enough opportunity for me.”

He knows his plan doesn’t guarantee that everyone will be out like a light, but when most of them collapse it’ll be the perfect time to escape. Taeyong won’t stay in here for another day. He can already feel himself rot.

Taeyong turns the power on and quickly slips back inside the clinic to take an extra bottle, remembering the security. Using what he’d learned from the training given by Red Phoenix, he manages to slip the tablet in one of the guard’s coffee mug. It will dissolve fast enough and he just needs to wait.

To avoid suspicion, even if it won’t matter anymore, Taeyong heads back to the cafeteria, still followed by a dumbfounded Mark. He settles in his previous seat, hands clasped on his lap while the hands of the clock in his mind tick, counting seconds and minutes. While it counts, his blue eyes go over the entirety of the room, scanning the faces he came to know in the past 23 months.

He will not miss any of them. He doesn’t want to see any of them again.

Maybe except for two specific people.

Approximately ten minutes later, someone barges in, a female nurse calling the others’ help. A guard stands next to her as they announced the strange phenomenon in the staff’s dining area. The other nurses follow, leaving the patients with a gazillion of threats and reminders.

Taeyong counts _one, two, three_ before shooting out of his seat, drags Mark and locks the door with a cable he found and kept for this, locking the cafeteria from the outside. He sees one of the guards down on the floor, unconscious.

Panic radiates off of the other patient when Taeyong rushes up to the third floor. “When are you coming back? Will you come back for me?”

“You think you’re so special.” His hair bounces over his shoulders as he sprints to his room, taking a paper from the business book Jaehyun gave him. “If you shut up I’ll come back to visit you.”

“Really?” Hope is apparent in the younger’s tone as he follows the older yet again.

Taeyong doesn’t answer. He’s running out of time. Soon the nurses will gather the patients to send them back to their rooms.

As he makes a turn to the hallway leading to the emergency exit, Chungha emerges with a phone in her hand, giving them a look of absolute confusion. “What are you doing here? Lunch is not over yet…”

“Chungha.”

“What?”

“Who are you talking to on the phone?”

She frowns, glancing at the phone in her hand before slipping it in her pocket. “It’s my girlfriend. Why? Why are you acting so strange?”

Taeyong pulls out a cloth from his pocket and more cable ties. “I think we have some bidding a goodbye to do, Chungha.”

Before she can open her mouth, Taeyong shifts behind her, knocking her off with a single chop on the back of her neck. Chungha falls limp in his arms and he quickly drags her across the floor, dropping her near the emergency exit door.

Horror falls on Mark’s face as the older patient ties the cable around her wrists and gags her with a cloth obviously torn from some clothes.

“She’s going to wake up soon. When she does I want you to tell her she cannot say a thing. Only when you know she won’t rat us out should you remove the restraints.” Taeyong orders him, snatching the keys from her pocket. “Tell her I didn’t want to hurt her and that I’m sorry, and that I’ll come see her again.”

He unlocks the door, takes a quick glance in the hallway and looks at Mark with a smirk. “Thank you, kid. For keeping me sane.”

Taeyong disappears through the fire exit, braving the cold as he climbs down the stairs glued to the wall. He hops off of it when he’s only a foot high and runs off, forcing his legs in a sprint as the chilly wind pricks his skin like a thousand needles.

The asylum shrinks inch by inch behind him as he dashes, long, caramel hair drifting through the harsh winter breeze. Taeyong pulls out the paper where a car plate is written on, smirking as he remembers the smooth stunt he pulled only yesterday, casually asking Doctor Kim if Jaehyun was dropping by for Christmas. And the oblivious doctor, having bought his acting and improved state, carelessly told him about the recent email the Invictus Kingpin sent. Jaehyun was not dropping by. He informed that he was shopping for his family members.

 _Bullshit._ Taeyong knew the family members are the squad. And Jaehyun, ever so trusting and careless Jaehyun should’ve thought of another excuse.

Now, Taeyong needs to locate the nearest shopping mall to the headquarters and dare find someone that may or may not be there. Though even if Jaehyun isn’t there, then Taeyong will find him, like how he did before.

Taeyong will always find him.

From the distance, he sees a motorcycle coming his way. It must be some patient’s visitor. Taeyong runs through the snow, the wind biting through the thin fabric of his uniform. He runs, runs, runs with a sole purpose in mind.

The motorist, poor clueless man drives straight, unsuspecting of the escapee. He’s a little too late to see the danger as Taeyong grabs him by neck, using all of his arm strength to drag the man from his seat and slams him down the snowy concrete. The motorcycle drops to the ground, spiraling over the white snow before hitting the closest tree.

The caramel-head steps over the stranger, removes the helmet and grins at the sight of the unconscious man. “Sorry about that, I kinda need a ride.” The helmet soon sits on his head and Taeyong walks back to pick up the motorcycle, hopping on it in a sec and hastily turns around, driving on full throttle. He doesn’t even mind dying from the cold anymore. A man with a purpose will only die after all is done.

It takes him a few minutes to reach the shopping mall, thanks to his daredevil skills of counter flow and beating the red light. The guard doesn’t even bat an eye at his lack of appropriate clothes when he enters the parking lot, face still hidden by the helmet.

He immediately finds a free spot, leaving the motorcycle and the key inserted to the ignition as he goes to work – searching for Jung Jaehyun’s car among the sea of many.

“4198…4198….Where are you,” Taeyong hums, scanning each vehicle’s car plate. When he finishes the first level, he goes to the second, scanning and just walking around until he reaches the third, stopping in front of a white Maserati Levante.

His blue eyes shine bright as he crouches in front of it, chuckling deviously. “Well hello there…”

 

0o0o0

 

It’s a busy day. The malls are bustling as people do their last-minute shopping spree for Christmas. Twinkling lights of assorted color hang from the walls and ceilings and a tall Christmas tree, 10 feet in height is situated in the middle of the ground floor. Fake presents surround the foot of the tree and young couples, as well as families with their little kids take pictures to solidify a good memory.

Jaehyun watches them for a while. It’s busy back in the HQ as well, but for a different reason. None of them knows a holiday break in their calendars. They don’t have families to go home to, at least most of them. He has his father but the old man instilled in him the same workaholic mindset: A day out of the HQ keeps the money away.

He snorts at the memory. His father told him that when he was young, when he begged the old man to let him join the group. Jaehyun was a distracted boy who couldn’t keep his attention on one thing. His father had been worried that he wouldn’t be able to take the work seriously.

Now, he has finally proven him wrong. Invictus has changed their status to a first-rate mafia organization, partnered with Garnet for being the distributors of Asian women in Europe, and primary drug dealers all over Asia. He had tried his luck and came back to France, explaining everything to Fort. Casanov was against it. It was huge money taken away from them. But Garnet was stronger, knowing they were at fault too and had convinced Casanov to cut their ties, and the former paid a hefty penalty for the contract termination. Invictus had started catering to Red Phoenix’s previous clients, expanding their network.

Invictus has replaced Red Phoenix for being the only Korean partner group of Garnet.

Tonight, he will be on a flight back to France for a meeting with Fort. It’s regarding the sales and other concerns that they cannot just discuss through a video conference.

It’s been two years. Two years since Red Phoenix’s demise, two years since the failure in Paris, two years since _that night_ he wholeheartedly regrets.

Jaehyun shakes off the memory. He can’t be distracted. With one last glance at the Christmas tree, the new Kingpin of Invictus walks ahead, excited to give his presents to the squad.

A paper bag containing a woman’s dress hits his leg at every movement. Jaehyun had warmed up to Léonie. She’s like the mother he lost. He believes she deserves a present from someone, even though he’s not related to her.

His phone rings, pulling him out of his thoughts. Jaehyun fishes it from his pocket, frowning immediately when he recognizes the number from the private asylum.

“Hello?”

_“Mr. Jung! Something happened!”_

“What is it?” Jaehyun enters the parking lot, stopping right next to his car.

_“Patient 47 has escaped! Please come over. We’re sorry we fa-“_

He quickly hangs up, cutting off the call. Jaehyun unlocks the car and tosses the bags to the passenger’s seat, quickly buckling up. A few curses slip out of his mouth.

“ _God_. Right on Christmas of all days!”

He almost collides to an SUV, abruptly stepping on the brake. Jaehyun’s body grows rigid, unmoving as he catches sight of a mop of caramel hair from his periphery.

Lee Taeyong leans forward from his position in the backseat, tilting his head to the side in an eerie manner as a wide smile adorns his face. His long hair, now reaching the middle of his chest touches Jaehyun’s arm, tickling the skin.

“Merry Christmas, Jaehyun. Did you miss me?”

Getting over the initial shock, Jaehyun looks at the empty space ahead and then back at Taeyong. His eyes are bulging, mouth agape. “What the fuck? Taeyong–“ As he reverses to his parking space, Jaehyun curses under his breath. “What the fuck? You fucking escaped! How did you even find me?!”

A piece of paper slaps against the Kingpin’s cheek. It’s cold as ice and damp. It just falls right on his lap.

“Were you too proud of purchasing your own car that you had to subtly tell me? I found that in the business book. I think you used it as a bookmark because your ass was too lazy to get an actual one.” Taeyong’s head rests over the shotgun seat. “And you told Doctor Kim about shopping today.” Squinting, he straightens and flicks the younger’s arm. “Listen, Jaehyun. You really need to work on lying. What kind of a first rate Kingpin are you? So careless.”

Jaehyun’s mind is in a state of calamity. He wants to ask Taeyong _how_ the older found him in a place he never mentioned in the mail. But a more pressing matter gravely knocks on his sense, reminding him that Lee Taeyong just illegally left an asylum and from what he picked up from the call, the place is in chaos.

“I’m sending you back. What the hell did you do?” Jaehyun changes the gear, driving out of the parking lot.

He doesn’t stop Taeyong from taking the bags, not caring what the other wants to do about them. Soon an asylum escapee sits himself on the shotgun seat, quickly buckling up. Huh, at least he knows not to make Jaehyun worry about his safety now.

“I drugged the doctors and nurses. Remember what I told you back in the cabin? Actually – don’t answer me. I know you forgot. But I told you I would know how to sneak out even if you put me in the maximum security prison.” The mischievous lilt in his tone slightly aggravates Jaehyun. “See where I am now? Next to you.”

Without warning, Taeyong grabs the steering wheel and pulls it to make a turn, haphazardly sending the car swerving. The road is slippery because of the snow and Jaehyun’s heart pounds in his chest when the wheels screech.

“Woah! Hey!” Jaehyun screams, slapping Taeyong’s hand away from the steering wheel. “Are you trying to kill us?!”

The mischief in his voice is replaced with the lifeless tone that screams Lee Taeyong. “Drive back to Invictus.” The order leaves no room for protest. “You’re not sending me back to the asylum.”

The whole situation is grating on Jaehyun’s nerves. He’s not supposed to be in such mess on this day. He would call one of the squad members to assure the asylum but he can’t risk a text and drive. He needs to deal with the matter currently at hand. “No, Taeyong. You escaped. Do you understand the gravity of that? You weren’t supposed to be out ye–“

“Then when?!” Taeyong growls as he grips the seatbelt and digs his nails on the rough strap. “I’m fine now! I don’t need them anymore! Clearly you know what happened to me in that place.”

Jaehyun tries to focus on the road but all he sees is Taeyong bleeding after repeatedly slamming his head against the wall.

“Not tryna guilt trip a sonnuva bitch like you or anything, but after telling you a thousand times it still doesn’t come to your sense that you only need to stay for me to behave. Wasn’t I in my best behavior back in the cabin?”

He knows the last question is sarcastic and Taeyong is only trying to annoy him.

“No. Fuck you, you tried to choke me there.”

“True but it was just for fun. I compensated you after, right?” Taeyong grins as he bites down his thumb, liking the way Jaehyun’s eyes shake. “In the asylum I strangled a nurse and broke another one’s arm. If they were you then I wouldn’t hurt them. As simple as that.”

Slightly distracted, Jaehyun casts a quick glance at Taeyong before returning his attention back on the road. His pace is slow, partly due to the dangerous snow and partly because he’s beginning to think twice about sending Taeyong back to the asylum.

He won’t say it out loud but he greatly missed the other.

Taeyong grunts, rubbing his feet together. “I’m fine now. Take me to the HQ and call Doctor Kim if you’re skeptic. You can even ask my friends there.”

His mind screeches to a halt. “You made friends?” Jaehyun asks, completely disbelieving.

“Don’t be jealous. You’re still the top friend and I mean it in more ways than one.”

“ _God.”_ A frustrated whine rips out of the young Kingpin’s throat. “What do I do? Should I take your words seriously?”

“I worked on my temper well, Jaehyun. My threats now are mostly empty.”

“Mostly. And for the rest?”

A wicked smile splits Taeyong’s face in half. “That’s for me to know and for you to find out. Now drive back to Invictus so I can say hi to your little squad.”

***

The sight of Lee Taeyong makes Johnny drop his phone. “What in tarnation…”

Jaehyun slams the car door close, locking it automatically. “Call everyone and come to the meeting room. All present employees, Johnny.”

“Right away!” The man frantically picks up the phone before hurrying back inside to leave an announcement through the intercom.

The Kingpin drags Taeyong by the wrist to the meeting room, and the latter immediately rips his arm out of the younger’s hold.

“Stop manhandling me, bastard. I can still snap your neck if I want to.”

“The thing is,” Jaehyun sighs, scratching his brow. “You don’t want to. Now please take a seat before everyone piles in.”

In the next three minutes, employees began to fill the meeting room. Murmurs resonate in the whole place and Taeyong slouches in his seat, resting both feet on the table.

The stares don’t make his skin crawl anymore.

A loud, clearing of throat shuts them up. Jaehyun stands in front, authoritative in his expensive suit and coat with his black hair brushed up. A silver watch embedded with diamonds wrap around his wrist, and it finally dawns on Taeyong that this person in front of him is a highly respected Kingpin.

Not that it changes his impression. Jaehyun is still the same ambitious, devastatingly attractive man that he was before.

“This will only last for a minute. I know there’s a ton of work to do. See this guy?” Jaehyun cocks his head at Taeyong’s direction. “Whatever you’re thinking, it must be correct. As much as he’s…different, Lee Taeyong is as valuable as every single one of you.” His coal black eyes skim over different faces, trying to trace a hint of violent reactions. He finds none. “I’m telling you all this because this wasn’t planned.”

Taeyong lets his head loll back, his eyes glued on Jaehyun’s. A smirk finds its way to his mouth when he catches the swift glance of the other’s eyes on the length of his hair flowing down the backrest of the seat. Three days ago, he asked one of the asylum staff to shave the side of his hair and leave a tail in the middle to reminisce the style he had before Red Phoenix’s war with Dragonaire.

“I don’t know if there’s an improvement,” Jaehyun squints at him. “But make sure you step out of the way. You’ll thank me if you ever manage to retire perfectly intact. Now get back to your work. Take my words gravely.”

Silence looms over when everyone exits the room, leaving the Kingpin and his advisors with Taeyong.

Doyoung sighs, uncrossing his arms. “I suppose we gotta take care of the asylum and pay whatever damage was caused.”

“Please do. And message a clothing store. Buy as much as you want in his size.”

“Alright.” Doyoung opens his laptop, cracks his knuckles and immediately goes to work.

“I want it all black, Doyoung.”

The sound of his name coming from Taeyong’s mouth makes him feel strange. It’s the first time he actually heard the other call him by his given name and not with anything lame.

Yuta glances at the blue-eyed man next to him. “I can’t believe this…”

“Me too,” Taeyong brings his feet down, turning the swivel chair around to face the Japanese. “I can’t believe you’re still hostile.”

The accusation makes Yuta frown. “Who said that? It’s been ages. I’m over it.”

“Oh really. That’s good to hear. How about you two, do you have something to say? Ten? Sicheng? Have you worked on your talking skills?”

Winwin shrugs. “I use it when I have something important to say.”

Taeyong chuckles, throwing up a hand lazily. “That’s smart.” He takes a better look at the Chinese man. “No, I’m serious.”

“I’m just glad you found Jaehyun so fast.” Ten finally speaks from his spot next to Johnny, pursing his lips. “You could’ve died from hypothermia.”

“Well is that concern I hear? Because if it is,” Shoving a thumb in his mouth, Taeyong sucks. “Then thank you.”

Johnny squirms in his seat. “Jaehyun he’s broken.”

“He totally is.” Yuta adds up, sounding amused.

Doyoung aggressively presses down a key, startling them. “Shut up, you bunch of fools. Lee Taeyong?” He then slams the laptop close, staring right into a pair of blue eyes. “Congratulations on improving.”

“…Thanks.”

“This is so weird.”

“Right. What else should I do?” Jaehyun looks around before releasing an exasperated sigh. “Just go back to work, guys. Inspect the shipments. Winwin, please get the bags in my car. I forgot I got you presents – and Léonie has something there, please send it to her.”

At the mention of his mother, Taeyong turns away, still nibbling the pad of his thumb.

Sicheng brightens up, catching the car keys thrown at him. “Damn, being friends with a Kingpin is so great!”

Excited by the news, everyone immediately leaves the two. Taeyong scoffs at the perennial childishness of the squad.  

Jaehyun taps him on the shoulder. “Come on; let’s get you changed before I show you around.”

***

Just like before, Taeyong gets to wear the younger’s clothes although some of them are significantly big on him.

The Kingpin shows him around the new Invictus headquarters. It’s definitely bigger now, having extended with annexes on both sides. The previous building was expanded in length rather than height.

And it certainly gives off a Red Phoenix vibe now with its power and status.

Jaehyun leads him through floors and hallways, showing the offices and different departments and most especially, the new vending machine stocked with sweets.

Taeyong scans the cafeteria, attention lingering at the counter. “Where is she?”

“What do you–“ Jaehyun pauses, humming in understanding. “Léonie has stopped cooking for us three months ago. Don’t worry, she has her own place away from the hustle of the HQ. Your mother’s safe.”

He doesn’t say anything in response to that but Taeyong nods before Jaehyun takes him to the storage room where boxes and boxes of drugs are being brought in.

“Where’s your father?” Taeyong asks out of the blue, slipping his hands in his jeans’ pockets. “The last time I was here, I knew he made it clear Invictus wasn’t about to turn into charity.”

“Dad retired when I took over. He’s on an overseas vacation, actually. Or I don’t know if it’s still called a vacation since he’s been in Connecticut for two months. He’s gonna plan to stay there for good, I guess.” The Kingpin supplements before calling out the inspector – a tall man with sharp features, _Oh Sehun_ to do a recheck on the packages.

Without anything more to ask, Taeyong keeps quiet, watching the men of Invictus move around. The busy air reminds him so much of Red Phoenix that he asks Jaehyun at one point to take him away where it’s quiet and doesn’t reek of the old memories.

He finds himself soon in the younger’s private office, leaning against the mahogany desk.

There are shelves of books on the right side, built in the wall. Brown takes over in the entirety of the room with a few exceptions, just like the crimson carpet beneath his boots. A window reaching the ceiling is open, drapes pushed to the side to show the light drizzling of snow outside. It’s facing the main gate and nothing else is around, just trees covered in white.

“I have a flight later at 7 PM. It’s getting harder to discuss stuff with Fort through video conference. I’m afraid it’ll require me to fly there at least twice a month.”

“What exactly are you afraid of?” Taeyong tears his eyes away from the window and looks at the man standing on his left. “The hectic schedule or the possibility that I’ll regress in the times you’re not around and you’ll just find Invictus into a chaotic state, because the psychotic jerk decided it was too boring being nice?”

“You’re underestimating yourself, Taeyong. I’m not your lifeline. I shouldn’t be the only reason you’re trying to improve yourself.”

Taeyong suddenly chuckles, amused. “You’re right. You know what? I learned something during my stay in the asylum. Ask me what it is.”

A smile slowly forms on the Kingpin’s face, remembering how the other likes to be asked instead of initiating. “Tell me what it is.”

“I learned that…” Taeyong drawls, absently tugging on his braided hair and resting it over his shoulder. He stops before Jaehyun with barely an inch in between. “…that in order to survive the fight with your demons, you gotta set a goal. You hold on to that goal, and until you get it, have it wrapped around your fingers, you do not stop working for it, whatever it takes.”

Thin lips brush over fuller ones, teasing. “I found my goal, Jaehyun. After 28 years. Though you’re near, you’re still far. I can think of other goals to set, but I’ll get right on them once I’m done with you.”

Sans warning, Taeyong grips the flaps of Jaehyun’s coat and slams the Kingpin against the desk, sending the papers in a clutter on the ground.

Mouth meshed together, the two forget about reality. Time stops with the hands of the clock frozen, and the rest of the world is down. Blood rushes throughout their bodies, hot and thick, like the wild fire burning red and blue in their chests.

At some point Jaehyun’s waist starts to hurt and he pushes the older away, severing their lips. A thin string of saliva connects their lips and Taeyong licks it off before leaning in, taking Jaehyun’s bottom lip in between his teeth to nibble and suck.

It swells and it reddens, that Taeyong’s eyes dilate when he’s done with it. Jaehyun looks so damn inviting, Taeyong wishes to ravish him, but he’s got another idea at the moment. Something they haven’t tried before.

Jaehyun groans at the sight of Lee Taeyong, ruthless murderer, down on his knees. His fly is open in a blink of an eye and the next thing he knows, his hard, pulsating length is in his _friend_ ’s grip.

“Couldn’t you have waited ‘til we get back to your room?” His breath hitches just as the teasing touch of a tongue licks from the base, slowly, tantalizingly, ‘til Taeyong’s mouth wraps around the bulbous tip.

They exchange no further words, conversation long forgotten since their minds are now occupied with something, of lurid obscenities.

Moans, curses and grunts fill the office, bouncing back and forth against four walls. Jaehyun’s hand cards through the caramel tresses he missed dearly before tugging as harsh yet as careful as he can. He pulls, pulls, pulls while his hips push, retaliating against the onslaught of pleasurable attacks coming from Taeyong’s hot mouth, added with the skillful swirls and licks of a thick, pink tongue.

“Fuck,” Jaehyun breathes out, emitting more moans than intended. It’s embarrassing to say the least, how quick he’s reaching his climax and how far gone he is for the other. He almost wobbles, losing a bit of balance and quickly grips the edge of the desk with his free hand.

Mouth full, Taeyong looks up, blue eyes meeting coal black ones just as he performs another series of wonders with his tongue. The slick muscle’s tip dips on the slit, and a moan is torn out of his throat at the explicit taste of the younger’s oozing cum. Jaehyun gets even more vocal, tightening his hold on Taeyong’s hair.

When a calloused hand decides to send his mind into frenzy by kneading his balls, Jaehyun cries out. Taeyong’s name spills from his lips like liquid ecstasy, like a million year-old chant. It doesn’t stop, continues ringing and buzzing until he can’t take it anymore and finally lets go, shooting his load down the tight column of Taeyong’s throat.

Heat surges down his body. Taeyong sucks Jaehyun dry, to the point that the younger hurts because he keeps taking, taking, taking even when there’s no more to have. Greed cloaks him at the moment as he keeps his hand pumping, although lackadaisical. The last sporadic spurts of cum drop on his tongue before he feels the length soften and Taeyong shows some decency of tucking it back.

The sound of his zipper closing sends his face into another bout of burning flames. Taeyong grins, lips swollen and stained. Jaehyun lets go of the other man’s hair when he realizes he hasn’t even released it yet.

“I take it that you don’t need a heater anymore when I can just provide the same service?”

The door slams open. “Jaehyun you need to ge–“. Doyoung stares at the both of them. “Am I intruding?”

“Oh no, you’re not. We just had,” Taeyong straightens his shirt, tugging the hem past his crotch. It hides the evidence from Doyoung’s eyes. “A very nice reunion.”

Doyoung nods, looking doubtful. He’s about to turn to Jaehyun when his eyes widen, noticing something on Taeyong’s lips. “What…is that?”

Taeyong licks off the remnant on his lips, smacking. “Didn’t someone tell you that you got glazed donuts back in the cafeteria?”

“No…“ Doyoung gawks in realization. “Seriously? What are you two, teenagers with heightened hormones? Keep it in your pants, for heaven’s sake. And – urgh.” He walks past Taeyong, picking up the cluttered documents. “Jaehyun, Fort wants all of us in Garnet, in case you’re forgetting things. He left a mail so you better reply immediately.”

Still dazed, the Kingpin gives a disgruntled response before walking out, heading somewhere both of the remaining men in the room doesn’t know.

Taeyong then helps the other with arranging the files. “Sorry about that; I got carried away.”

“You know, if this happened before you got in the asylum, you’d say ‘do I give a fuck? He wants it too’. You’d blame Jaehyun and say it’s just sex, get over it.” Doyoung looks at him. “Is it just sex?”

“You’re asking the wrong questions, Kim.” A pile of papers lands in Doyoung’s hands. “What you’re supposed to ask me is if it’s good.” Taeyong smirks, making a lewd show of licking his lips. “And it is.”

He won’t blame Doyoung if the other takes the congratulations back.

***

The whole squad arrives at the airport apron. Some Invictus men in black suits carry their luggage to load them in the jet.

“So,” Yuta starts, taking off his shades. “Why exactly are we taking him with us?”

“You could’ve just asked me, Jap.”

Yuta intercepts to call out his glaring racism that the knife thrower only ignores. “I told Jaehyun I wanted to go. You got a problem?”

The Japanese huffs, peeved by the derogatory name. “No. I was just curious.”

“Curiosity got the cat, curiosity well fed.” Taeyong’s hair dances in the merciless wind, and he rakes a hand through it, combing to untangle the strands. “When are we getting on?”

“Right now,” Jaehyun checks his watch before beckoning them to follow. “Come on.”

 

 

***

It’s 9:50 in the evening when they leave the Charles de Gaulle airport. Rain pours hard nonstop ‘til they get to the 20th Arrondissement's Avenue Gambetta.

Taeyong whistles, dragging his luggage inside. “I have a very vivid memory of this place.”

It takes Jaehyun aback. The Kingpin frowns, clearly despising the unsolicited comment. “Please get rid of that memory, Taeyong. I’m beat; can we not instigate a fight? I have a very early meeting with Fort and I don’t really wanna go to bed mad.”

“Sure, sure. When are you leaving?”

“7 in the morning. I’ll drive myself there.” Jaehyun quickly dumps his things in his room, the one he had claimed before. Taeyong occupies the one at the far end of the hall. “Is everyone going to be fine here? I mean, I’m taking Doyoung and Johnny with me. You four will be fine, right?” He scans their faces, putting more attention on the blue-eyed man.

Taeyong shrugs indifferently. The old him would be locking the younger in a chokehold for insinuating he’s a child.

The old him is gone.

Or so everyone, including him, thinks.

“Don’t worry about me. I can take care of myself _but_ if I ever mess up, I’ve got three reliable nannies with me.” Blue eyes trail over Ten, Sicheng and Yuta’s direction. It amuses him that they’re not even trying to talk back.

“Very well,” Jaehyun, satisfied with the response, tells his assistants for the meeting to turn in for some rest.

Left with nothing much to do, Taeyong drags his luggage to a room and locks it with a soft click, strangely concerned with not being a disturbance to the rest. His bag bounces on the bed when it meets the mattress, soon opened as he rummages for the bag of sweets he made sure to pack.

Sweet, milk chocolate melts in his mouth as his eyes roam the entirety of the room he’ll be occupying for a few days. It’s big enough for a decent-sized bed, a nightstand and a small table partnered with a plush chair pressed to the wall. The drapes on the window are peach in color, and the carpet on the floor is the same. Taeyong removes his shoes to rub his soles over the soft fabric.

He knows Jaehyun doesn’t want him to remember _that_ night, and he too, would like it to magically disappear from every part of his brain, but it’s insistent in staying there, tattooed for life. Recalling the second his eyes landed on his mother and the searing pain on his side, the caramel-head feels something in his stomach churn, like an exigent perturbation.

When his hand digs under the pile of clothes in his bag, expecting to grasp a bottle, he wraps his fingers around nothing instead. It slipped his mind. It slipped everyone’s mind. He didn’t get to steal a bottle or two of medicines from the asylum and no one from the squad even thought of a relapse, not even Ten. Well, he can’t blame them. He can manage himself.

So he forces the past memories to vanish, to evaporate for now at least, because the longer they linger in his head, the more threatening the possibility of a relapse will be. He learned something from Doctor Kim. He has to utilize that.

No sounds come from the outside. Everyone has retired to their respective rooms, either to get more sleep, something they don’t usually get back in Korea, or to do whatever that Taeyong doesn’t care about. It’s 6:30 in the morning in Korea. His body clock can’t adjust right away so after kicking the bag off of his bed, uncaring of the clothes that spilled out, Taeyong buries himself under comfortable sheets to stare at the ceiling until the sunrise comes.

When the Kingpin, Doyoung and Johnny are gone the next day, the mouse finally comes out of his room to play.

Taeyong drags the two men, sans a still sleeping Yuta to the living room, now free of the useless computers except for one at the corner.

“This is so weird. How are you touching us without gagging?” The Thai nurse comments mischievously, not even irked by the other’s presence anymore. The past two years without Taeyong did everyone good.

Taeyong plops sideways on the couch, legs perched over the armrest. “I was trained, if you really wanna know. Like conditioning. You know, that Pavlov theory. Not exactly that per se, but you get it. Everytime I get close to people or I find myself in a crowd, I think of something that distracts me, something worth thinking of rather than the jitters in my nerves.”

“And those are?”

“Quite a few things.” He mentally goes over a list, head titled back. “But the strongest compulsion is Jaehyun’s eyes. Listen, I don’t know what’s with them, alright. But they distract me – sometimes.”

A rare comment directed to him comes from Winwin. “That’s so gay.”

“Okay, fucker. How about you tell me what’s gay since you’re obviously into Nakamoto Yuta?”

“Erm,” Winwin stands, walking to the kitchen. “Coffee?”

Taeyong snorts at the other’s not so smooth dodge. “How thoughtful. Please, I want one.”

Hearing him say _please_ still bother the two in an amusing way.

Ten yawns and rubs one of his eyes. “Aren’t you both tired? I haven’t even unpacked when this guy dragged me here.”

“Bullshit. All of you literally slept during the flight _and_ ‘til I decided to get you two out of your rooms.”

“…All of us? You mean to say –“

An exasperated groan leaves thin, pink lips. “Ten, for fuck’s sake alright, I know your job is to worry yourself with other people’s health. I got plenty of sleep in the asylum. That’s all I ever did among a few others.”

Winwin busies himself with brewing coffee as well as joining in the conversation. “Tell us about it. You know, Jaehyun was updated with your status but it doesn’t mean we also were. You know we don’t care much about you since you can take care of yourself. Stronger than a Diamond, aren’t you? But since we’re talking and there’s nothing to do,” He finally comes back, handing Ten and Taeyong their mugs. “Spill some anecdote.”

The heat of the mug is perfect in his hands in the middle of cold, rainy Paris weather. “Demanding piece of shit. Alright.” Taeyong blows on the coffee before taking a sip. It trickles nicely down his throat. “So patients got these all-white rooms. There’s nothing in it but a thankfully soft bed. When you need assistance you press a button on the wall. You get personal nurses. When you’re not allowed to leave your room you get fed there. The nurses bathe you whether you like it or not. There were cooking and art classes and morning exercise, sometimes these little gatherings where you just chat. If the weather’s good you get to play outside. Checkups and therapies, lots of them.”

“That actually doesn’t sound so bad? Except for the bathing part.”

“It doesn’t.” Taeyong takes a bigger gulp and it burns his tongue, but he feels no pain. Nothing will amount to the few things he experienced in the psychiatric facility. “Until you fuck up and you’re forced to wear a straitjacket until the doctor pities you.”

Ten visibly winces at the imagery. “Was it ever hard? I mean, it was, you just said so, but…anything else?”

It takes him a few seconds to come up with an answer, reminiscing the times he almost followed the footsteps of Kim Chungha’s previous patient. “When it got suffocating because you felt like you were in a prison. And since you got nowhere to go, you gotta face the demons lurking around until they just sedate the fuck out of you because, I’m gonna be honest, there’s no way out ‘til they knock you out.”

“I kinda feel sorry but honestly, you needed it…?”

Taeyong looks at the Chinese arsonist. “When you said you only speak the important stuff, I guess you weren’t lying. It’s true.” Uncaring of the heat, Taeyong chugs the remaining of his coffee. It already slightly cooled down anyway. “So what time are they coming back?

The Thai nurse puts his mug down the coffee table before glancing at his wristwatch. “It usually finishes in a few hours. Then for the rest of the stay here we just go around before heading back to Korea.”

“Sweet. And Jaehyun really brings all of you everytime? Can definitely afford it now, huh?”

“We need a break too. Ever since Invictus boomed, we rarely got seconds to breathe. Consider it a privilege.”

“Mm, I will. Though I don’t think I’d want to travel here with you every time he has to meet Fort. Aside from I’ve really got nothing to do and travel is not my thing, I had ugly experiences here two years ago.”

“Uh,” Winwin regards him with caution. “Does it make you uncomfortable?”

“No,” Taeyong finds the loose thread on the armrest of the couch far more interesting as he begins to play with it. “But they’re ugly experiences. You leave ugly experiences behind you, Doctor Kim said. But I can take it. I have a choice whether I wanna go with you or not.” Suddenly remembering something, Taeyong straightens up. “Hey, you know I made friends in there.”

Ten lets out a weird noise, looking at him funny. ”Unbelievable.

“Fuck you. Their names are Chungha and Mark. Chungha was my nurse. Mark’s a Kleptomaniac. Actually I never considered Mark my friend but since he kinda helped me escape and he’s honestly nice, I guess he’s a friend now. They’re cool. I told them I’d come back to visit them. But I know that’s uncertain.”

“They’re gonna lock you up again, though? You really had to bid them goodbye, you jerk.”

A smirk forms on his face. “They can try. They should know by now I’m a _very_ special case.”

***

The meeting has been going on for two hours. Apparently, there’s more to discuss than the previous meetings since the business is going steady and more and more countries are trying to get ahold of their products.

Doyoung and Johnny keep track of the conversations for Jaehyun to review back in Invictus.

“So, we have to take advantage of that. I mean, this is money already crawling our way.” Jaehyun suggests, twirling a pen with his fingers.

Fort nods, agreeing with him. “It’ll be very advantageous for us. Though it might be overwhelming. But I trust that you and I will be hand in hand in this. How’s the local headquarters, by the way?”

“Doing more than fine. It’s going on 24/7, nonstop.”

“A great news, isn’t it? Keep it up.” Yunho smiles, glancing over to the other two for a few seconds before continuing. “As for the plan to build an HQ here, have you come to a final decision yet?”

“I would very much like to build an HQ here, although smaller. I just need a place where it’ll be easier to process these international operations and the business plans I want to start here in France. And I might stay over a few months.”

The Garnet kingpin replays his words over and over in his mind, head titled the slightest bit when he stares Jaehyun in the eyes. “I want you to think that thoroughly. I know that you’re incredibly capable of conquering the black market but you’re one man, Jung Jaehyun. Please think of this again and preferably discuss it with your advisors.”

The clock strikes 10 in the morning. Yunho rises from his seat, concluding the meeting. “I’ll have the files mailed to your system right away. I appreciate your willingness to come over for the personal meetings, most especially that you just landed but I have other meetings to go to and I must cut this short.” He reaches for the Invictus Kingpin’s hand for a short handshake. “I’ll talk to you again for updates.”

Jaehyun smiles, straightening his suit. They’re halfway to the door when Fort calls his name.

“You usually have an update about Ethan Lee. You don’t have one right now?”

“Oh,” Jaehyun glances at Doyoung before looking back at the Garnet boss. “Actually, he’s out of the asylum. He came with us.”

The young Kingpin doesn’t miss the spark in Jung Yunho’s eyes, though it disappeared as quickly as it showed. “Good to hear. Keep Ethan very close, Jaehyun.”

He wants to ask why Fort is so hell-bent on knowing everything about Taeyong ever since the partnership began. It’s not that he has a problem with it, but Taeyong is right. Garnet has a strange attachment to the leftovers of Red Phoenix – or to Lee Taeyong, at least.

Something boils in Jaehyun’s chest and it doesn’t feel good.

He bids goodbye to their business partner before hurrying to the car, eager to get back to Gambetta.

The possibility that Garnet has a deeper connection to Red Phoenix bugs him. He doesn’t know what it is but if he doesn’t feed his curiosity, it’s never going to stop bothering him, always lingering in the back of his mind.

Next time. He’ll make sure to ask next time.

***

They find the three lounging in the living room, watching a French movie. Only Lee Taeyong seems to be enjoying it.

“You should’ve turned on the subtitles.” Jaehyun says, taking off his coat. Doyoung passes by, mumbling something about taking a nap. “It’d be comical if their noses were bleeding.”

Ten frowns even more, glaring at Taeyong. “He said he’ll just translate it to us. There are no available subtitles, Jaehyun. Just so you know.”

Johnny quickly sits himself next to Ten, draping an arm over the shorter man’s shoulders. “So, the meeting is over. It means we can go around!”

“Where’s Yuta?”

“He’s been asleep since you left.” Winwin gets up to finally take the mugs to the sink. “If you’re all going out, then enjoy it. I’m staying in for today. I’ve got games to finish.”

Taeyong reaches for the laptop and presses down the power button, earning himself a high-pitched whine from Ten. “So what happened in the meeting?”

“The sales are getting bigger than expected. I told Fort we should take advantage of that and cater to other countries that have been trying to reach us but we need to study it more. Besides, some countries are foreigners in his system, first time clients. A background check needs to be done.”

“So meticulous, so skeptic. I think I know why Lee Namgyu found a best friend in Fort’s father. They all share the same traits.” Taeyong’s eyes finally leave the laptop’s blank screen to look at Jaehyun’s upside down image from the position he’s in on the couch. “You were gone for three hours max. Is that all you talked about?”

“Well,” Jaehyun taps the older’s head so he can sit on the armrest. “Invictus is planning to build a headquarters here in France for a future business plan as well as so I can check on the existing operations myself as much as I can. But Fort suggested I think things through again. I guess it’s harder than I thought. I gotta listen to him, though. He’s like a mentor since he’s been in this game longer.”

“Anything else?”

“Did you even listen to me?”

“Anything else?” Taeyong repeats the question like a broken record. Since they arrived, Jaehyun is already giving off a vibe that he can’t pinpoint, but it’s off. It shows in his eyes and Lee Taeyong sees everything.

But it seems like the younger is not about to let him in on the secret.

“Anything else is we go out since the meeting is over. You and me. I’d postpone this and do this with you tomorrow but 23 months of you being locked up drained me too much and I only realized it when you came back.” Jaehyun ignores the teasing hoots coming from the side. “So, do you want to go out with me?”

Taeyong’s brows furrow. “I don’t do dates, Jaehyun.”

“Then I guess we have to change that. Please, quickly wash up and get ready. Grab your coat; I’ll be waiting in the car. Let’s take advantage of the rain taking a rest.”

The blue-eyed watches Jaehyun go out again, the corner of his lips curving up into a slight smirk.

 

0o0o0

 

The road is moist, giving off that weird but soothing smell of rain. The windows are down as they drive through the highway, and Taeyong enjoys the feel of chilly air biting at his skin.

“Since you asked _me_ out, I think I have the right to choose whatever we’re going to do today. Let me put you through something of my choice instead. How about that?”

“How about a no?”

“How about I cut the wirings of this car and let you drive yourself into a fucking tree, Jaehyun? This is not a matter of yes or no; you asked me out, I get equal control. Not just because we’re in a weird friends-are-going-on-dates stage does it mean you get to lead. Well you get to, but I also get to. I’m indulging you with my presence just like what you want. The least you could do is let me decide on the place.”

“Jesus,” The Kingpin groans, casting him a curt glance. “You went on a fucking litany when you could’ve just simply said you want to go somewhere specific. You spout too much, Taeyong. I suggest you put that mouth of yours to better use. But not today.”

A stare set to burning holes on his side doesn’t leave him for seconds until Taeyong breaks the silence again, blue eyes unblinking and his whole face blank as a white sheet of paper. “I’m going to pull my Korean seniority card and tell you I’m older than you so you get to listen to _me,_ whether I spew out litanies or phrases. Now,” The older hums while tapping a finger on his chin. “I want greasy food. Take out. Since this is an exclusive date, I don’t want to share the same space with other people.”

“…Pizza and beer? Really? And where are we going? Taeyong I don’t want to go ba–“

Taeyong rudely interrupts. “Go to Père Lachaise.”

The car almost screeches to a halt, sending Taeyong lurching forward. “What the hell?”

Confusion is all he sees in Jaehyun’s face, and the almost tangible meter of his quickly dissipating patience. “That’s a cemetery and that’s on the other direction. We’ve been driving the opposite way.”

“I’m aware. Now go,” Taeyong waves a hand dismissively. “Grab some pizza and beer and a lollipop perhaps then let’s go visit the dead.” A sound of exhilaration trickles out the seams of his lips. “How romantic. We’ll give Romeo and Juliet a run for their money.”

God. Jaehyun wants to take a U-Turn and bring his date to the medical clinic they passed by instead of going through this weird date. He’s actually trying to finally let Taeyong know more about his…interest and it’s going downhill.

_I think I paid that asylum for nothing._

***

The drive back takes them an hour as the slippery road caused a minor accident involving two SUVs, slowing down the already heavy traffic.

The rain is still absent when they finally park at a vacant space. No one is around for obvious reasons and it slightly creeps out Jung Jaehyun. He’s a brave man, tried and tested, but ghosts are a different story. It doesn’t help that although it’s only noon, the sky is covered with gray clouds, denying the city of a wanted sunlight.

“Taeyong,” Jaehyun trudges, following the other’s lead. The scene painfully reminds him of the time the caramel-head dug Kim Jaeseok’s grave for his morbid plans. “There’s no one else and this is…disturbing.”

“Because it’s been raining and no one wants to visit their rotting relatives while the sky is bawling.” The older man stops before a tomb and sits on it, placing the box of pizza next to him. Jaehyun does the same with the bag of beer. “We found a dry spot to sit on, didn’t we? It’s comfortable enough. It’s silent and hauntingly private. A miracle within the kingdom of the dead.” His dark humor is tickled once again, causing him to chortle, shoulders shaking.

Deciding that he will never be able to fully understand Lee Taeyong, Jaehyun just opens the box of pizza, Pissaladiére – Taeyong’s favorite recipe. It’s different from Italian pizzas with its more bready crust topped with caramelized onions and salty olives and anchovy fillets, compressing a French man’s taste.

They spend the next half an hour eating, with only the sounds of howling wind and Taeyong’s noisy chewing serving as their background music.

“I talked to Doctor Kim about a lot of things.” The knife thrower speaks through the mushed pizza in his mouth. “It’s inevitable.”

“What did you talk about?” An onion falls out of Jaehyun’s pizza, landing on the tomb. He sulkily flicks it away. “Only tell me things you want to share since I know therapies are confidential.”

“About my family and my weirdass feelings. Apparently, these murderous violent tendencies rooted from neglect, lack of affection and childhood hostility. That goes without saying,“ Taeyong bites a bigger chunk. “That Namgyu and Léonie had a lot of part to play in it, but contrary to popular belief, it’s not completely their fault because I had a hand in molding myself this way, because I let it happen even though I’m fully aware of the atrocious shit I did.”

Jaehyun just listens, letting the man get the chance to be more vocal. “We talked a lot. It was hard to accept, alright. Plus the unhealthy obsession with you? I agree it’s not just an obsession anymore. At first it was but now, I don’t know. He said something along the lines of you being a projection of what I wanted to be which is farfetched. I don’t really know.”

“You don’t know or you don’t wanna deal with it?”

“Listen,” Taeyong stuffs his mouth, chewing several times before washing the food down with the cold beer that warms him up inside the thick coat he has on. “I lived my whole life not knowing shit about it, Jaehyun and you walked into Red Phoenix just like that then decided to fuck with me. I didn’t ask this, I didn’t want this but it’s here. I think I’m doing a pretty good job dealing with it.”

Another can of beer is popped open, and soon the liquid’s bitter, addicting taste spills over Jaehyun’s taste buds before finding home in his stomach. “By dealing with it you mean you’re not denying it but you’re not admitting it either.”

“If that’s how you wanna put it. Give me some time, alright. Isn’t it cool that we’re friends now, though? Like mutually? I felt like the biggest dumbfuck in the universe getting in an unrequited friendship.”

Jaehyun is certainly enjoying this new side of Lee Taeyong. “I think we’re past that. Didn’t even go through it much. Did you make friends in the asylum?”

Taeyong snorts, taking another gulp of beer. “I sure did. It was unexpected. Don’t think it happened easily, though. But at least I managed to make two friends.” The mischievous grin is suddenly replaced with one that is melancholic and borderline nostalgic. For how unreadable Lee Taeyong is most of the times, it’s amazing how he’s so expressive at the moment that his face says it all even without words. “It feels nice to have friends. They don’t live the way we do but it’s nice.”

“…You’re more open than before. I like it.”

“You wanna hear a dirty joke?”

What a way to ruin an atmosphere, Jaehyun muses. “Is it worth it?”

“I don’t know,” Taeyong shrugs, shaking his can as he tries to peek and check how much is left inside. “But it suddenly popped in my head. It’s lame so I’ll probably keep it to myself. Seriously though, I changed, didn’t I? I wouldn’t talk to anyone in Red Phoenix and anyone who dared to get into my personal space met their end in a snap. Now I even managed to hold a decent conversation with your squad.”

He doesn’t know why but Jaehyun’s heart swells. Taeyong suffered a lot. Taeyong worked hard. And he’s showing the fruit of it.  “I’m proud of you.”

Taeyong huffs, his melancholic state quickly disappearing. “You should be. Anyway, are you done with that? ‘Cause I wanna take you to this famous tomb.”

Silly dread forms in Jaehyun’s chest. He’s already feeling his skin crawl from whatever Taeyong has in store for him. “Uh, fine.”

So they leave their spot, box of pizza and beer in hand. Taeyong unwraps his strawberry lollipop, the candy pushing against the pocket of his cheek as he sucks on it.

A few turns later, they stop by a massive tomb.

“Wanna explain?” Jaehyun puts the pizza and beer down.

“You know how Paris is inclined with romantic shit? There’s a tradition here.” A very distracting tongue swirls around the lollipop and the kingpin has to mentally chastise himself to focus on whatever the blue-eyed man is saying.

Gesticulating, Taeyong explains further. “People used to kiss Oscar Wilde’s tomb because of that novel he wrote called _A Woman of No Importance._ There’s a quote there saying ‘a kiss may ruin a human life’ and people just did their shit, leaving lipsticks on his tomb. I don’t know what they’re exactly aiming for when they kiss a tomb housing maggots and stinky ass bones.” The loud crack of a candy breaking resonates in the empty place when the caramel-head bites down his lollipop. “But there’s a specific wall built for tourists now. They can leave their saliva-coated kisses there.”

His head turns to Jaehyun’s direction robotically that it sends a chill down Jaehyun’s spine. Lee Taeyong is probably doing it on purpose, trying to scare the living daylights out of him. “But you know what I think, Jaehyun?”

“Just tell me so we can leave this God forsaken place.”

It makes Taeyong smile, that empty, haunting smile when he senses the growing fear radiating off of the younger. “I think a kiss makes or breaks a person’s life.”

The unexpected kiss comes to steal his capability to think. Taeyong licks along the seams of his lips and when Jaehyun opens up, sweet tidbits of candies enter the crevice of his mouth, melting in his tongue. Taeyong pulls away too soon, igniting disappointment.

“What do you think your kisses do to me?”

Dazed, it takes Jaehyun two seconds to guess. “Break you?”

Taeyong startles him with an imitation of a buzzing sound. “Wrong. You do both.” His finger presses on Jaehyun’s lower lip, rubbing gently before the same hand reaches behind the younger’s head to hold him by the nape. Taeyong’s voice drops an octave lower. “I’m going to keep you with me, Jaehyun. For as long as I want. Even if I have to break every single bone in your body, then I’d do it.”

It’s so twisted, so sickening, so revolting. But Jaehyun has long welcomed the possibility that he’s just as twisted as Taeyong for swallowing the poison that comes out of the latter’s mouth.

So he gives in, leans in for another kiss with his hands on the other’s waist, as it turns out that the cemetery date is just as marvelous as a date in an elite five-star restaurant.

He should’ve known this is exactly Lee Taeyong’s style.

***

“Remind me not to let you have your way again.” Taeyong grumbles, twisting another lollipop in his mouth as they exit the cinema. People pour out of it, some of them brushing past him. There’s a dull, buzzing sensation in his veins that he manages to hold down, knowing that lashing out now after all he’s been through will not be worth it. Besides, he can’t afford to make a _mess_ in such a vast place – it will be harder to escape and not leave a trace.

The deep, rich laugh coming from his left doesn’t mollify the mood. Jaehyun adjusts his own scarf before beckoning the older to walk closer. “We agreed on equal control, remember? And it wasn’t that bad, come on.”

“What do you mean,” The sudden grunt scares the woman walking ahead of him as she gives him a weird gaze before fleeing away. Taeyong can’t blame her; he looks as though he’s about to bust someone’s knee. “It was too dramatic. When your enemy’s dying, you don’t fucking let them grab a gun and one-up you. You shoot until you run out of ammo. Fucking media and their constant need to be emotional.”

“I agree, but a movie is a movie, it has to make the audience _feel.”_ Jaehyun checks his watch and sighs. “Do you want to stay out later? It’s almost dinner time anyway. I can still take you on that candle-lit dinner you hate.” With a teasing lilt in his tone, Jaehyun tugs the older close and heads straight to the parking lot. He’s just about to unlock the vehicle when his phone rings, and he tenses up for the beep is different, a sound he set up in case of an emergency call.

He doesn’t check the caller’s ID as he picks up, fully knowing it’s from an Invictus member. “What’s going on?”

“It’s Sicheng,” Doyoung answers, panic thick in his voice. As far as he knows, the last time the other was this distressed was after successfully running away from Dragonaire, scared of the possibility that the men were after them. “He’s been out for an hour. He said he was going to this café, but it’s been taking too long and we tried to call him but it just won’t connect. Please come back, I’ve already called Johnny and Ten. They were out for the day, too.”

It’s not like Sicheng to ignore their calls. There must be a valid reason why Kim Doyoung is in such a state, unable to solve a simple puzzle that he had to reach out to Jaehyun.

The call ends as soon as the Kingpin confirms they’re coming back. Taeyong doesn’t question the sudden change of plans, actually glad that he doesn’t need to go through another stupid date idea by the younger. During the ride, it’s exceptionally quiet with the stereo off and their only companion as the droning of the car, and the supposed solace in silence is replaced by anxiety as the smell of doom becomes so thick and heavy, hard to miss.

Jaehyun sprints inside the house as soon as they arrive. “What happened? Have you tried calling him again?”

“Yes, we didn’t stop calling him but it stopped ringing eventually. I should track where it is. I can use the detected signal I picked up earlier.” Doyoung updates in a single breath as his fingers quickly fly over the keyboard of his laptop to locate where the phone must be.

Everyone in Invictus uses a chipped phone. It’s one of the first things that Jaehyun had the employees done to improve the quality of their security. He knew it will be useful someday if ever an enemy attacks but never did he once expect that one of the squad members will be targeted.

If his hunch is correct – someone had taken Sicheng.

While everyone’s on edge, Jaehyun tries to think of whoever might be behind this. They’re still unsure of what happened, Sicheng might just be around, not in the mood to pick up their calls while he strolls, but every single possibility shall be considered in their line of work especially when an organization is a first-rate, a magnet of enemies and troubles.

He ends up with none. Invictus hasn’t clashed with any other Korean mafia.

“I got it!” Doyoung exclaims. Yuta is the first one to rush next to the other, his face almost shoved close to the screen. “It’s thirty minutes away from here. But the signal I detected was from the unanswered calls prior to disconnection. We can still use this, everything is useful right now.”

“Are we panicking for a reason, guys? Because like you said, Sicheng wanted to head to a café. What if he’s just lounging there?” Ten tries to lighten the atmosphere, not wanting to think of the worst case scenario.

But Yuta is having none of it, slamming a hand down the back of Doyoung’s chair, ears ringing in anger. “Are you kidding me, Ten? We can’t reach him. I’d take it if it was a signal problem but none of us is experiencing the same, yeah? I told him to come back quick. Sicheng won’t stay out there without a single text to any of us.”

Jaehyun grabs the Japanese’s shoulder, giving it a squeeze. Yuta hisses, pushing the kingpin’s hand away. “I’m going out to look for him if you’re not worried. If I need to flip every single building in Paris then I’ll do it alone.”

“Wait.” Doyoung says, gesturing for Jaehyun to come. “I can’t access the system. It’s another glitch.” He presses the power button over and over but the device won’t turn off – the screen is white, empty with a buffering sign in the middle. “We’ve worked on this already, why is it still happening?”

Yuta shakes his head as he watches the scene before him. “I’m going now. I don’t have time for that shit.” He makes way for the door, eager to find the arsonist.

Yet before he gets the chance to take a step out of the house, an arm blocks his way and he follows its length, eyes landing on a pair of blue ones. “Taeyong, I don’t have time for your bullshit, okay. Not tonight. Step aside.”

“You told me about the glitch when I was still in the asylum, Jaehyun.” Ignoring Yuta, the caramel-head talks to the Kingpin. “It’s the same glitch that’s been bugging Invictus, right? Tell me, why can’t you get rid of it?” He keeps his arm against Yuta’s chest, and when the other tries to push it away, Taeyong shoves him hard on the chest, sending Yuta staggering a few steps back. “Don’t fuck with me, Nakamoto. This is not a fucking coincidence.”

Yuta glowers at him, rubbing his chest. “And what, your highness, can you conclude from the random system glitch that probably has a connection to Sicheng’s disappearance? It’s farfetched.”

Taeyong bites down the lollipop, munching the candy noisily. He carelessly tosses the stick to the side and it hits Johnny’s arm which makes the tall man curse under his breath. “Do you not really have any enemy, Jaehyun? Invictus is as strong as Red Phoenix was. You’re dumb to think and be complacent that no one with the likes of Dragonaire will be coming for you. You know,” His eyes hold such an amount of mischief as he scans over the members of the squad. “It’s not surprising to house another kind of Moon Taeil.”

“Are you insinuating what I think you are insinuating?” Johnny huffs. “It’s impossible. It’s just an ordinary glitch.”

“If it was as ordinary as you think it is, then why can’t Kim Doyoung get rid of it? You already have a Gold card in your department but still, something manages to get through your firewall? You got an enemy. When did it start happening?”

Jaehyun rakes a hand through his hair in frustration. “Shortly after I managed to close the deal with Garnet.”

“Then it isn’t an old enemy. It’s trying to get to you because you have something in your hands that for some reason, Garnet is connected to. They can’t be trying to pull another Dragonaire, can they? How desperate.”

“Then what,” Yuta spits, patience running out. “What’s going on? If this enemy you’re talking about is the same that probably has Sicheng, since we’re now considering he’s taken away, then that means they’re here as well. Would a Korean mafia really follow us around to this extent?”

Taeyong blows a raspberry before parting his hair to the side with a casual hum, looking nonchalant. It infuriates the Japanese. “Why are you only considering a Korean mafia? Since the bug had been there after the deal with Garnet was made, wouldn’t it be plausible that the enemy is a foreign org? Don’t limit your competitions into one.”

_Foreign organization._

The gears in Jaehyun’s head start running. The only foreign organizations they are connected to are the clients they cater in Europe and Asia. Is it possible that one of them is really going to betray him? But why? Are they not afraid of the power from an organization connected to a high ranking mafia? What is their pur–

No. It can’t be.

_Is it really…_

The screen changes into black before a series of sentences flash. Doyoung attempts to press keys again, but the box containing a cryptic message remains. “Everyone, look at this. They’re communicating with us.”

They all huddle together to read what’s on the screen.

‘ _Finally, we got to you. It wasn’t easy infiltrating the system. It’s hard to come up with a clone to gather information, Jung Jaehyun. Don’t ask how we did it. What’s important is you’re back and hopefully with the item that you stole.’_

Jaehyun’s brows furrow. “Invictus did not steal anything. And…we? So they’re more than one?” The kingpin taps Johnny’s shoulder. “Call the Korean HQ. Tell them the system’s been breached and to heighten the security. Halt all shipments and every package that has arrived, recheck them. Have Oh Sehun and his team do it.” He turns to Doyoung again, jaw clenching. “Will you be able to connect that to our phones?”

“Yes, but that’s only possible if we turn off the system back in Korea so that whoever’s coming for us will only be able to connect to our phones and the laptops in here.”

“Do it,” Jaehyun breathes out. His blood is boiling but he can’t do anything yet. They don’t have a lead. And if the enemies behind this are actually the ones he’s got a hunch on, then it’ll be even harder – they would have to locate an organization that’s been terminated. “These fuckers are just as capable as your team if they’re able to clone our system so they won’t be traced.”

Another message pops up. This time, it finally confirms the Kingpin’s hunch, and what Lee Taeyong has known ever since it was first brought up.

_‘You ran away with it then you ruined us. It’s time for you to pay the price. If you don’t want your friend to get hurt, then don’t contact anyone for help. Don’t do anything rash and wait for another message. ‘Til then, your friend is safe and sound, unless you make a mistake. – V; C’_

“So they want me.” Taeyong states flatly.

Jaehyun turns to him, confused. “What?”

“They want the item back. It’s Cygnus and Venandi. I know you’re all smart enough to put two and two together. Remember? Venandi held an auction and Cygnus bought me. I don’t think they need me for the same purpose they had before. They want to seek revenge because one, I killed the Kingpin of Cygnus and two, Garnet terminated both organizations. And as far as I can remember one of you in the squad killed Venandi’s boss, so they really wanna fuck with Invictus.” Taeyong says in a tone that tells them they should’ve known all along.

He’s right, isn’t he? How can Invictus be _this_ complacent and arrogant to think former foreign second-rates will not come for them when their Kingpins were murdered in cold blood?

Doyoung scoffs, shaking his head. “How did they know Invictus has you?”

The question makes the caramel-head snort. “Since no one wants to use their brains, I’ll tell you my guesses. I’ll bet someone saw Jung Jaehyun take poor drugged me from the theater in the middle of chaos. More likely, they learned that Garnet partnered up with Invictus. Of course Jaehyun’s identity will be exposed. Did Fort hold another pompous gala?”

“He did.”

“Fucking ridiculous. Anyway, these people literally already know I’m the Red Phoenix heir. It’s not Quantum Physics to dig into Invictus’ background? It literally was connected to Red Phoenix.”

Yuta chimes in, extremely peeved and impatient. “So we can’t make a move? Will it be guaranteed that they won’t hurt Sicheng? Why don’t we just give Taeyong to them since they obviously did this because they want his head?”

Before anyone interrupts, Taeyong brings up a hand, silencing them. “Which head are we talking about here? I got two.”

Doyoung shoots up from his seat when the Japanese charges at the blue-eyed, putting himself in between with each hand on either man’s chest, preventing a brawl. “Calm down, okay?! This is not the time to fuckin’ kill each other, I swear to God you both are getting on my nerves. Especially you,” He glares at Yuta. “No one wants anyone to be taken away. It’s our fault we dismissed the possibility they’d come for us after two fucking years.”

When Yuta calms down and turns away, Doyoung brushes past Jaehyun to continue typing, taking advantage of the momentary absence of the bug. “For now, we can’t take their word and do nothing at all. I know they told us to wait but let’s at least head to the location I detected from Winwin’s phone and see if we get a lead there. I already turned off the system in the HQ, so their messages will be sent in our phones or laptop instead.”

“Right.” Jaehyun sighs, his expression hard as he glances at Yuta. “All of you, get in the van. These assholes won’t let us get a damn vacation now.”

 

0o0o0

 

The whole van is quiet except for Doyoung’s occasional mumbles to direct Johnny where to go. They’ve been driving for 20 minutes, passing by establishments and hunting suspicious-looking vehicles. They can’t afford to miss out. Sicheng is in the hands of their enemies and they all know these people will be merciless. The simultaneous demise of the two organizations will not hinder them from doing everything to get back at Invictus – especially when the latter holds the core reason of their unfortunate end.

Thick tension fills the vehicle. Taeyong circles his fingers around his left wrist, wringing until the dull tingling sensation disappears. He’d been taking the prescribed medications in the asylum regularly. He hasn’t taken at least one yet since the escape.

_I should’ve taken a few bottles with me._

Doyoung shifts on his seat. “We’re five minutes away from the location. Just 200 meters ahead. They probably threw the phone somewhere there. Make a turn to the right, Johnny.” He glances back at his phone, waiting, until a beep resounds. “Stop! We’re here. Watch out for anything or anyone suspicious.”

Jaehyun pulls the door open but Taeyong blocks him with a leg, digging the sole of his boot against the kingpin’s stomach.

“Uh-uh,” Wagging a finger, Taeyong pushes Jaehyun back to his seat. “None of you is getting off this van. If their men are actually around, then they’re only getting me. You’re not gonna risk yourself and all your remaining advisors. Right, Jaehyun? Be a responsible leader for once. Always so fucking impulsive.”

The younger pushes the foot off of him. “What if the–“

“Shut the fuck up, all of you, because your voices are starting to fucking grate in my ears and I haven’t fucking taken my usual meds yet and no, I don’t have them so shut. the fuck. up, because I’m afraid I’d fucking lose control again.” Taeyong takes a deep breath, glaring at them. “They don’t have Winwin here, of fucking course. I can handle myself. Now settle down and let me do this, alright? I’ll return right away if I see something.”

Without waiting for anyone to respond, the knife thrower hops out of the van, slamming the door close in annoyance.

It’s drizzling ever so lightly, wetting the already cool, soaked ground. His boots thud over the concrete as he walks, hands kept in his coat’s pocket to hide from the chilly weather as well as to hide the telltale trembles and tics. Taeyong knows he hasn’t gotten better yet, only maintaining composure through the conditioned treatment. As he skims the surroundings with his eyes, quickly roaming each nook and corner that he passes by, he thinks of a pair of coal black eyes to hopefully stop the tremors.

It doesn’t work. Dread settles in his stomach.

A crack sounds from beneath his foot. When Taeyong looks down, he sees a phone, damaged beyond repair. He picks it up, inspecting.

“Sicheng…”

Just as he’s about to turn around, a rusty gate of an apartment several stops away opens and someone walks out, wearing a black turtleneck sweater and jeans.

Taeyong’s eyes widen. He can’t be mistaken. He never forgets the faces of people he meets even if they only appeared once in his life.

The man’s back hits the terracotta walls and they painfully dig on his back. Taeyong has an arm presses against the man’s throat to prevent an escape.

“Mm, Jesus H. Christ,” His voice is low and vicious as he stares right into the eyes of the petrified man in his mercy. “Who do we have here? Huh?” Blue eyes glint beneath the moonlight’s illumination. “L? Nice to fucking meet you again. I hope you didn’t forget me.”

He feels L’s violent shudders against his body. It makes his stomach churn in delight. “Ethan Lee?”

“Damn, right. It’s fucking Ethan Lee.” Taeyong presses harder against L’s throat, blocking the man’s airway. He watches as the pale skin slowly turns red from both the freezing cold and lack of oxygen. “Where is Sicheng?”

Hands desperately try to pry his arm away but to no avail. “W-wait, I don’t know who that is –“

“Oh yeah? Don’t fuck with me.” He pulls away only to drag the man by the collar, ignoring protests. “Try to run away and I’ll gut you and make you chew out your own tongue.” When they reach the van, Taeyong slams L inside before getting in and slamming the door close. “We got a Venandi here.”

A gun cocks and Yuta charges forward, holding L at gunpoint. “Where’s Sicheng?! Where did you take him?!”

“I don’t know!” L pants, hands bracing his own weight on the van’s floor with both hands. “Who the hell is Sicheng? Who are you?!”

The cold muzzle of the gun digs harder against L’s temple.

“I’m gonna put ten fucking bullets through your skull if you don’t–“

Before the Japanese can finish his sentence, the gun is pushed away from the terrified man for Jaehyun to take charge of the situation. “You don’t know? But you work for Venandi.”

L’s head shakes in denial, eyes shifting among the men in the van. “No, not anymore. I cut all contacts with them when Garnet terminated Venandi. I’ve been living normally since then. I don’t know what the Venandis are up to now, believe me.” He gulps visibly, looking pitiful as he trembles even more under everyone’s scrutiny. “Who are you even?”

“Invictus.” Taeyong answers. “Ever heard of it? The bastards, together with Cygnus took one of us. Now,” He grabs a handful of the man’s hair, yanking harshly and bending latter’s neck in a dangerous angle, earning a pained yelp. “I want you to tell me where we can find Sicheng.”

“I don’t really know! I was new in Venandi when you bought the weapons with that girl. Seriously, I haven’t known a lot in that org to tell you all of their hideouts. I honestly just manned the register for the sake of the fucking work, okay? I don’t give a damn about their business…”

After the former Venandi member explains, Taeyong instantly rips the gun out of Yuta’s hand to point it between L’s eyes. “So you’re useless and we can’t risk letting you go, can we?”

“Taeyong,” Jaehyun’s authoritative voice rings inside the van. “Put it down. We’re not killing anyone here, we’re outside.”

“What are we gonna do with that guy now?” Johnny asks, impatiently tapping his fingers on the steering wheel. “He doesn’t know anything.”

The kingpin shifts in his seat, buttoning his coat as Taeyong pulls L up and pushes him to sit in between.

“Go back to Gambetta. He still worked for Venandi so he might turn out to be useful in the end.”

***

Taeyong pulls the restraints tighter, tying the ropes around L and the chair he sits on. It pulls a grunt of pain from the man who voices out his protest as much as he can with the gag in his mouth.

Sans Sicheng, all of them are in the living room, waiting for another message.

Jaehyun’s sigh worsens the jitters in their bodies, and the deafening silence only proves to be taking seconds from the ticking time bombs as they sit restlessly, helpless and clueless, reduced to marionettes waiting for their owner’s instructions.

Another minute passes by without something from either Cygnus or Venandi and the Invictus kingpin finally gives up, breaking the silence. “I need to head back to Garnet. They need to know this. Fort was the one who deliberately made it known that those two orgs will be crawling on the ground.”

“But if the enemies know we’re asking for help, Sicheng is done for.” Ten huffs, glaring at the man tied on the chair. “Why are you so useless?”

“I know,” Yuta sides with the Thai nurse, gripping the gun attached to his hip. They can’t blame him for losing his cool. Out of all of them, Yuta is the closest to Sicheng, even without that one time intimacy. They were like peas in a pod. “But Garnet is powerful. If they could wipe them out in a snap before, they could do it again. Clearly the job was unpolished. Let them do the finishing touch.”

“I’ll see what I can do. This is still a personal dispute.” Jaehyun glances at Taeyong who’s busy staring at L, unblinking. “But maybe we can convince him since Fort has been so greatly, strangely interested with this one right here and it’s about time he puts it to another use.”

Taeyong finally tears his gaze away from the perturbed man. “He sees Lee Namgyu when he thinks of me, I suppose. I know there’s nothing more to it. Is that why you looked so peeved this morning?”

“Shut it,” Jaehyun straightens and drags Taeyong up by the arm. “Yuta, I want you and Johnny to guard the house. Doyoung, please watch that man for us. We’re not going to be out long. If another message comes up, call me right away.”

“Understood.”

***

The van drives past the iron gates of the high ranking organization without qualms. Remembering the first and last time he was here, a hair’s breadth away from gouging one of the security’s eyes for not letting him in, Lee Taeyong is greatly impressed. It’s astounding how much power can do.

Someone leads them to Fort’s office. Three knocks on the huge double doors, a sign that an unannounced yet urgent arrival is in dire need of the kingpin’s attention.

Soon they find themselves before Yunho who’s looking at them with an arched brow, curiosity and awe dancing in his pupils at the sight of Lee Taeyong before him. “I would’ve had your heads on a platter if you were somebody else. But why are you both standing before me at this time of the night? We don’t have an urgent meeting, Jung Jaehyun.”

“I understand and I apologize for that. But I believe that this needs to be discussed as soon as possible.”

“ _As soon as possible_ ,” Taeyong mimics Jaehyun, mocking. “Then fucking get straight to the point.” His eyes roll hard before they land on the leader of Garnet. “Cygnus and Venandi are out to get me. They’d been trying to breach Invictus, only succeeding now by taking one of us, Dong Sicheng. He was kidnapped. From the looks of it, they had been waiting for this chance because they couldn’t get out of France. The hideout in Gambetta is not safe. Here’s the thing,” Taeyong slips a hand in his pocket, the other pressed on Fort’s desk. “Invictus got no men here. It’s up to you if you want to do something about it since you’re the one who meddled in somebody else’s affair. Now we got two fucking rats on our tails.”

“Is the man taken Lee Taeyong?”

The caramel-head leans away, perplexed. “Fuck you I’m here?”

“Exactly.” Yunho says, tapping his pen rhythmically against the desk. “I hate to break it to you, but Garnet shall have no direct part in this. If you want, I will just send my men to find them and you will be the one to get on it. The last time, we did it because Lee Taeyong was the one specifically harmed. And my actions aroused doubt in a few of my clients because they thought it was a careless move. You know I take care of my businesses well.”

Jaehyun rubs a hand down his face. Of course. Each and every one in their world is just as wicked and selfish, only doing things that will be beneficial – even him. He understands. They can just wait for another message to know what they can do to get Sicheng. Besides, coming here was already reckless of them. Maybe it’s a blessing in disguise that Fort doesn’t want to be involved. Right. He’ll just think about that.

But then his mind replays to the other kingpin’s words and once again, he feels an irrational jealousy. “You’re willing to put your name on the line if it was Lee Taeyong there with Cygnus and Venandi. You did it once. You did it without an explanation. It’s fine that you’re not willing to be reckless again, although Cygnus and Venandi are smaller and weaker now compared to what they were. So _why?_ Yunho, you are willing to create more enemies for the sake of this man right next to me but not for anyone else. I think I need to know it now. We’ve been working together for a while.”

The electric current between Jaehyun and Fort is almost palpable as they hold an eye contact for several seconds. Fort’s mind runs in a maze for a short moment and when he finds no way out, a smile curves on his lips, one that is laced with thrill. Thrill regarding what, none of the two Invictus men knows.

“Huh, I guess it’s time. We’ve been keeping this for a while and secrets eventually get boring when they are not discovered. I was told this will only be disclosed when the time comes. It’s tonight, isn’t it?” Yunho says cryptically, now twirling the pen with his fingers.

Taeyong doesn’t have time to decode it. None of them does. “What have you been smoking? Or is it because there’s too much money to compute in your head that it’s going almost as crazy as mine?”

If it was another person, someone whose status falls beneath his, Fort would’ve minded the language. But it’s Lee Taeyong, and his name alone is an excuse. “I’ve been smoking none in particular, Taeyong. But do you remember when you came here before, dropping that bomb on me about Red Phoenix’s demise? And how I told you I knew about you because Garnet liked to know their partners personally?”

The blue-eyed doesn’t know where the conversation is heading – for all he knows it could be going south because he feels it, the dull, imminent dread of _not knowing_ a thing. It discomforts him because he’s always supposed to know what’s going on. _How obnoxious._

He must’ve said it out loud because Fort chuckles, now standing up from his seat to walk a little bit around, stopping behind the two Invictus men. They have no choice but to follow the older man’s movements for it feels like in every second that passes, Yunho blows on a fire that’s yet to ignite, only waiting for the right moment to light up. And it’s going to burn them.

“I lied about one part.” Yunho stares at the long-haired Red Phoenix heir before him. “Garnet doesn’t care about _anything_ past business. Red Phoenix was the _only_ group that mattered more to us because my father and _your_ father were friends even before the partnership was made. They go way back. You can say that they were like brothers from different mothers. Dramatic, isn’t it?” He pauses to look down as though trying to intensify the atmosphere. “Actually, we were a little disappointed because your father wasn’t able to ask help from us during their most troubled time and we only got to know it because of you. I should’ve pressed Moon Taeil for more information, hm? My mistake and I apologize.” Their eyes meet again and this time, the Garnet kingpin’s pair is livelier than before. “Now, crime families with their most trusted people are the closest ties in this world. Lee Namgyu had a deal with my father and it will be kept for as long as Garnet exists. Do you want to know what it is?”

“If I say no?” Taeyong hisses. “Because I’ve already told you before that I don’t give a fuck about Red Phoenix.”

Jaehyun watches the exchange in silence, gripping the phone in his pocket. It seems like they’ve forgotten his presence as both powerful men in their own different ways are immersed in the conversation.

“An heir is an heir to the throne, Lee Taeyong. No matter how detached Lee Namgyu was to you due to a reason we all know – that Garnet doesn’t care about, you’re still an heir. He did his duty to protect you by asking Garnet to look out for you if ever something happened to him or to Red Phoenix.”

Stunned is an understatement to describe what Jung Jaehyun sees in Taeyong’s expressions. How can the other not be, when all his life, from what they know, Lee Namgyu was never a good father? But maybe they should’ve reconsidered it when the dead boss, without thinking twice decided Lee Taeyong couldn’t be harmed by Dragonaire.

Fort holds his head high, posture screaming full control. “Lee Namgyu put you under our care, Taeyong. You have always been a Red Phoenix _and_ a Garnet member. Your value has the potential to exceed mine. So anything that concerns _you_ specifically will be mine as well. Except this time – we don’t get involved in personal disputes unless it concerns one of our members. I see that you’re here standing before me, completely fine. But I’m sending my men if you still want help to locate your advisor as soon as possible.”

A scoff is what comes out of the knife thrower’s mouth after what seems like an eternity of recovering from such revelation. “I’m a Garnet member? _Really?_ Wait.” His voice is laced with disbelief. “Should I rejoice? Do you want me to rejoice? I guess I should thank you since it’s been 28 years and I still discover shit about my identity. You should’ve just said you won’t get involved because Sicheng is not a Garnet member and it’s Invictus’ problem.” Taeyong finally casts a glance at Jaehyun but it’s taken back to Yunho in a second. “But Fort, listen to me. I will be of no use to you. You have Garnet. You have the most capable men. You don’t need me. So thank you for sharing some trivia but I don’t think it’s gonna be of help right now.”

“You’re going to face Cygnus and Venandi, aren’t you? You will face them alone just like what you did with Dragonaire.”

Somehow, he appreciates the lack of question and doubt coming from Fort. The man is aware of what he can do. Lee Taeyong internally curses the man for putting so much trust in him when he mentioned it previously that he’s the last one that Garnet should trust. What even does Jung Yunho see in him? “I will and _please_ , keep your men. I think we can do this alone. We just came by to let you know you didn’t go a good job eradicating those two orgs who did me dirty.” Taeyong looks at Jaehyun and jerks his head to the door. “Come on, dimple boy. We got work to do.”

They’re on the way to leave when Fort calls the Invictus’ kingpin. “Jaehyun. You will notify me if something happens to Ethan in this. He’s important to us.”

Jaehyun gulps, jaw clenching. “Of course.”

“Jung Yunho, I don’t think I will need your help. I got away from Dragonaire with all of my limbs intact; I got away from Cygnus and Venandi too. I’m pretty sure I’ll escape death again this time. Thank you for telling me the truth, though – my father wasn’t fucking doing his job.”

They walk out of the headquarters without so much as a farewell to the Kingpin. Taeyong slams the door close before buckling up, fingers digging on his thighs as he fights down the urge to break something, anything within his reach.

Jaehyun revs the engine and maneuvers to the road, mind going places. One part of him is thinking of the situation back at the Gambetta hideout while the other lingers on the conversation with Fort.

He takes a surreptitious glance at the other. “Are you okay?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Yet Taeyong’s actions contradict his words as he grips his thighs harder, bruising his own skin, erecting worry from the man next to him.

“I’m thunderstruck too. That’s the reason why they gave the projects back because he knew you were with us. That’s why he terminated Cygnus and Venandi operations when he heard they auctioned you. You’re a fucking gem to them.”

The repetition of his significance irks him to no end. “Does it matter? I’m with Invictus now and I don’t think it’s what we should be talking about. Are _you_ okay? Because they won’t bother themselves with people that aren’t me.”

A sigh escapes the younger’s lips. “I mean…it’s disheartening. But Fort and I are business partners. Namgyu and his father were more than that. Seeing that you’re unscathed and he thinks you can do it, he doesn’t find the need to worry his head about this. And we weren’t supposed to ask him for help anyway. I just hope those two orgs don’t know what we did.”

“Don’t tell the others about me being a Garnet member. Just tell them Fort won’t be generous enough to do things twice for us.”

“That’s acceptable. At least we tried.”

***

When they get back to the hideout, L is already passed out on the chair and the rest of the squad is waiting standby near the laptop. Yuta springs out of his seat when the two enter the house. “What did they say?”

“Negative,” Jaehyun plops on the couch, face already marred with exhaustion and despondence. “They won’t deal with Cygnus and Venandi again. But they got a point, this is _our_ issue now. And we should be capable of dealing with it by ourselves.”

“Fuck,” The Japanese gunman sighs in frustration. “There are no new messages from them yet. I don’t wanna think of what they’re possibly doing to Winwin as we speak.”

“Since we’re at a stalemate right now, all that we can do is hope Winwin is fine. Their target is Taeyong. They’re only using him as bait. I think those people are only prolonging this for the sake of it. They’re hosting their own game.” Ten says, fidgeting. “We just need to win it in the end.”

“Do we need to wait for the end? Can’t we ju–“

“Guys!” Doyoung chimes in, turning the laptop around for everyone to see. “They sent another message.”

_‘Is it time to formally commence the game? You must be just as impatient as we are. Remember, don’t drag anyone else in this. Or face the consequences._

_We are calling shortly. – V; C’_

Out of the blue, someone’s phone rings. Everyone looks at Jaehyun as the kingpin answers the call. “Hello…”

 _‘This is Jung Jaehyun, correct?’_ Heavily accented English comes from whoever is on the other line.

“You already know it’s me. What do you want? Where did you take him?”

_‘Getting straight to the point, I see. Now, do you think we’re about to tell you? This will end right away. It’s thrilling when you know danger awaits you but you don’t know when it’s coming, right?’_

Johnny gestures for him to keep the anger down. Right. They have no choice in this but to give what the enemies want.

“Why didn’t you just come, you know where we are, right?”

_‘Now, where is the fun in that?’_

Doyoung is working on the remaining computer set up by Red Phoenix at the corner of the living room as Jaehyun talks on the phone. He turns around to mouth ‘ _can’t be located, cloned phone number._ ’

“Are you around? Are you watching us right now?” Jaehyun signals Taeyong to wake L. Taeyong follows before whispering against the restrained man’s ear as the boss of Invictus sets the call into loud speaker.

_‘No. I’m telling you the truth. We are busy taking care of someone. Why, did you do something we didn’t allow?’_

“…No. Don’t hurt Sicheng.”

_‘You hesitated. But we’ll take your word. As long as you keep others out of this. We are sending another message. Prepare.’_

The call cuts off. Jaehyun slips the phone back in his pocket and takes Doyoung’s previous spot in front of the laptop.

Taeyong grips L’s jaw. “Who called? I’m sure you recognized that voice.”

“Zero. It’s Venandi’s second-in-command.” L provides, eyes diverted from the burning pair staring right through him. For some reason, each time he looks into those intense, blue eyes, he feels like he is being compelled – there’s an invisible force trying to lure him, but he doesn’t want to delve deeper into it. _I’ve felt it before but maybe everyone feels the same? Nothing serious._

“Uh,” Jaehyun points at the screen of the laptop with a frown. “Does anyone know how to read this? I don’t even know the language. It just came in.”

“What is it,” Taeyong comes over, skimming past the words. “That’s fucking Italian. This should come from Venandi.” A thought emerges in his head before grabbing the laptop and planting it on L’s lap. “You know how to speak Italian?”

L nods.

“Very convenient. So you’re not entirely useless. Translate it.”

_‘Pistole, coltelli, bombe. Una stanza piena di pericoli é una stanza colma di mistero. La troverte? O resterá un mito?’_

He reads it twice, processing the most accurate translation. “Guns, knives, explosives. A room full of danger is a room full of mystery. Will you find it? Or will it remain a myth?” L peers up at them. “It’s like a riddle. I think they’re giving clues where they are.”

Johnny grimaces, throwing up his hands. “What the hell does that even mean?”

“Think of a place that involves guns, knives and explosives.” Jaehyun comments, looking at L. “You worked for Venandi. You might know a thing or two even if you weren’t there for long.”

Pressure builds in his system. L doesn’t trust himself. He already told them he do–

His eyes widen upon realization. “The headquarters! Remember the storage room where you bought the weapons from Kai?” He looks at Taeyong with buzzing excitement from being able to figure it out. “It’s been abandoned ever since. Maybe they took your friend there.”

“Hold up,” Jaehyun intercepts the conversation, shifting his gaze between Taeyong and L. “I’ve been quite confused.  I was wondering how you recognized this guy. From what I’m hearing you interacted with Venandi members?”

Taeyong rolls his eyes dramatically. “When I needed weapons to kill Taeil, Risa lead me to Venandi. I didn’t know she was planning to actually sell me off. That fucking whore.” Then he stands up and tosses the laptop to Jaehyun. “What the fuck are you all looking at me for? We got a place to go to. Rings a bell?”

***

They have no choice but to bring the former Venandi member with them. L was untied reluctantly with Yuta voicing out how the man might be tricking them. They can’t do anything about it – L is one way for them to reach Sicheng.

The drive to the headquarters takes them about an hour. The derelict building now resembles a haunted establishment with it appearing as if it’s devoid of souls. No lights, not a single shadow of a person around the area.

L leads the way in, using his own phone’s flashlight to see the way. It’s almost zero-visibility inside. Stained papers are strewn all over the floor with some other trash that was left by the place’s previous inhabitants. A few computers, probably damaged by now are covered in dust as well as the desks and chairs. Cabinets and drawers are open, empty of content.

When they’re a few steps away from the office that leads to the storage room, L brings up a hand to halt their movements and speaks in a hushed whisper. “Did you all pack heats?”

“Yes.” Taeyong answers before going inside, stepping over more papers as quietly as he can. The others follow in pursuit. Stopping to check, the caramel-head has his back pressed against a wall to listen for anything that hints presence coming from the storage room.

Just as he’s about to open his mouth to talk to the rest, a rustling elicits from the room. Without wasting a second, Taeyong steps out of his spot and rushes inside, gun pointed at…

…at nothing but a stray cat. The room is completely empty. The shelves are now free of weapons, even the frames on the walls are now gone.  

In the middle of darkness, they find no Venandi, no Cygnus, and certainly no Dong Sicheng.

They’ve been tricked.

The Red Phoenix heir’s shoulders sag in a mixture of disappointment and surging anger as a silent chuckle slips past his lips. He doesn’t even need to look at the others to know they’re wearing the same emotions on their faces. The only difference is he manages to school his features like they were not just made to look like complete fools.

“L,” He says through the quiet of the room. “Are you sure this is the right place?”

“I’m sure. Where else would they store the weapons? This is their main and only office. Plus…” The man pauses, voice dwindling as he hesitates. “I told you it was a riddle. They’re obviously playing with you.”

Doyoung approaches the former Venandi member to show another message on the laptop. “I just received something new. It’s still in Italian.”

_‘Salve, salve. Stai cercando me? Vai nella stanza. Guarda sopra e sotto. Se I’oscuritá è ciò che vedi, allora scusa, non c’è niente qui. Non fare niente di stupido finché non ti darò un indizio oppure morirà.’_

_“_ Hello, hello. Are you looking for me? Head to the room. Look above and below. If darkness is what you see, then I’m sorry, there’s nothing here. Don’t do anything stupid until I give you another clue or he will die.”

An abrupt noise startles all of them. Yuta kicks another chair, screaming in frustration. “I’m gonna fucking kill them! I swear to God when I see those motherfuckers…”

No one placates the Japanese anymore. They all share the same anger and hostility, except for L.

Taeyong stuffs the gun back in its holster. “What time is it?”

“Wee hours.”

Johnny sighs, sliding down the floor with his legs spread apart, looking utterly dejected. “I guess we should stay here for the meantime. We honestly don’t know when and what they’ll tell us next.”

They all do the same, claiming their own spaces in the room. Jaehyun sits next to the blue-eyed while the couple is side by side. Doyoung is on the other side of Jaehyun while Yuta’s a fair distance apart from them. L is quiet at one corner.

Taeyong rests against an empty shelf, the wood pressing quite comfortably on his back as he plays with a spare bullet. “We don’t have a fucking choice, do we? Just stay alert.”

“The laptop’s dying,” The light from the screen illuminates Doyoung’s face, giving him an eerie vibe amidst complete darkness. “I’m going to connect it to your phone, Jaehyun. So the next messages will go there directly.”

“Sure.”

Quietness falls among them. The seconds in their minds tick by, a mental clock running as they count what feels like an eternity without Dong Sicheng, when in reality it hasn’t even been a quarter of a day yet since the arsonist was taken away.

Pounding in their chests are erratic hearts full of fear and gloom, encased in tired bodies and burdened souls. Taeyong’s eyes are wide, staring at a blank space seeing nothing but black. Suddenly, the memories of his stay in the asylum come crashing to him like a freight train, reminding him of the nights he spent beating his head against cold concrete walls just so the ghosts of his past would leave him alone.

He tried so hard. But they’re all coming back to him now. He should’ve stolen some pills. Even the image of Jaehyun’s eyes doesn’t work.

When he feels a slight twitch of a finger, he begrudgingly thanks the physical anonymity at the moment because no one is going to see, no one is going to shame him once again. He shouldn’t care if they do, but it’s scary that he’s starting to.

Ten’s soft voice rings in the Paris’ winter air, creating a cloud of breath as he speaks. “Isn’t it…funny? We weren’t expecting this at all. Well, we should’ve. It was obvious but we were blinded by what’s only in front of us. You told us something about looking past the sparkly things to see the threatening dirt right, Taeyong? I still remember that. You were having a fever because they were constantly drugging you.”

Maybe he should ask Ten to stop. He doesn’t want to remember it anymore.

Because everything from that night only leads to one thing – of Jaehyun causing another permanent scar on his body.

No. Taeyong doesn’t want to remember it.

“We just went here for a meeting and a short taste of paradise, or so we thought. Because this isn’t paradise at all.” The Thai nurse chuckles to try to lighten the mood. It’s futile. “Johnny and I were out, Jaehyun and Taeyong were out – because that’s what we were supposed to do, right? To have fun even just for a little bit. Yet we were not even spared a day. How did we get so careless?”

“I’m sorry.” Jaehyun whispers. “I should’ve – I thought we were fine.”

“No, Jaehyun. We’re all in this together. We are responsible too. But personal grudges don’t die until they get a reason to. It’s our fault we’re in this situation after two years of thinking we got it all in place.”

The knife thrower scoffs. “Nah, you fuckwits. It’s _my_ fault. Maybe if I didn’t kill Kim Jaeseok, Red Phoenix would still be around. Maybe you’d be in the clinic being the midget nurse that you are.“ Ten whines, although playfully. “Maybe Doyoung would be answering mails. Maybe Johnny, Yuta and Jaehyun would be doing field work and Sicheng would be too busy with his games to even join you. And I’d be in my room sucking in the hoarded candies from the vending machine because I have no life.” Taeyong purses his lips with a low hum. “I apologize.”

“Take it back.”

“What, Bugs Bunny? Be glad ‘cause I don’t own up to my sins often.”

Doyoung’s voice hardens, unrelenting from Taeyong’s remark. “I want you to take it back. What you did, what happened to Red Phoenix – they were all unfortunate. But that was a boring life. I don’t want to sit through the day typing. Ten would be too desperate for patients he’d start killing his own colleagues.” Another protest sprouts from the nurse that they collectively ignore. Johnny only listens with an amused face – though they don’t see much in the dark, and Yuta hasn’t said a single thing. “Namgyu would continue to tolerate your sickness. Red Phoenix would deal with weak, bottom-feeders.”

“It’s the same old routine. It’s your fault and we’re beat right now. But this is way better than before. My blood rushes, my mind runs. The only downside is _this_ moment. We have better lives now. We got a cooler kingpin and we get overseas vacations we never got in Red Phoenix. We have higher positions now.” Doyoung pauses for a while, thinking of more things to say. “So take it back, Taeyong. We don’t want that old life. And we’ll get Sicheng by the end of this day.”

“Fine.” That’s all Taeyong gives Doyoung after listening to the other’s monologue. He has nothing sentimental to say. If they think things are fine, if they’re not going to curse him anymore for all the hardships they’d gone through, then fine. Taeyong will let it be. Sometimes it’s tiring to take all the blame and get no damn break. “Hey, you wanna play a game?”

Jaehyun pushes himself up to a better sitting position. “What game?”

“Never have I ever.” Someone in the room snorts. “You hold up five fingers. You say something that you’ve never done before that you think everyone else did. You bring one finger down if you did it. The one who has more fingers remaining wins. Come on, it’s fucking boring. Unless you have better ideas.”

“We don’t have better ideas. You joining, Yuta?”

“No.”

The atmosphere slightly tenses. Taeyong shrugs, squinting. “Don’t cheat. I’ll start. Never have I ever gone to a theme park.”

“Asshole.” The simultaneous response makes him smirk. All of them playing except him put a finger down. From the corner of his eyes, L shifts, watching. Taeyong ignores the man. “I know. Jaehyun you’re next.”

“Never have I ever had a boyfriend.”

Doyoung gives him a what-the-fuck look. “Eurgh…”

Jaehyun raises a brow. “We’re not dating. Put your fingers down!”

With a wicked chortle, Doyoung keeps holding up four fingers. “I’m really the only straight one here. Never have I ever kissed a guy.”

Taeyong grits his teeth as he puts a finger down, holding up four. “I’m gonna fucking castrate you.”

“I’m going to die! All of you are jerks.” Ten hisses. “Never have I ever topped.”

Johnny is the next one to complain. “This is so damn sad, Ten. Didn’t expect you to drop me like that.”

“Sorry I don’t wanna die…”

“Whatever. Never have I ever bottomed.”

“Johnny!” Ten has only one finger left. “I’ll stab you in the eyes!”

Taeyong looks at his remaining three fingers. “You’re missing out. The feel of dick up your ass is _majestic._ Like taking drugs and shit around you looks like vaporwave.”

Once again, L shifts. Taeyong glares at him. _What the hell is wrong with this sonnuva bitch?_

“…This is so embarrassing.” Jaehyun follows Ten’s footsteps in complaining. “Can we stop now?”

“No. Back to me.” Taeyong takes his eyes away from L. “Never have I ever played mobile games.”

“Murderer!” Their combined voices make the knife thrower flinch and pick his ear.

“Thanks for stating the obvious but can’t you guys come up with something else?” The caramel-head slouches in his spot, bending up a leg to rest his arm over it. “Sicheng would’ve brought a finger down.”

The comment arouses a solemn air.  It’s difficult to see but their expressions are etched the same – blue and longing.

And only if they could adjust their visions even more in the dark, maybe they’d see a little smile curved on Yuta’s lips.

***

Three hours pass by. All of them have fallen asleep, except for Lee Taeyong. He can’t sleep, he doesn’t want to. How could they get a wink of sleep knowing someone’s taken away from them and they have no clue as to where that person is, or what’s happening to him?

_Ah, it’s probably the clean conscience. They baited Sicheng because of me and not them anyway._

Darkness retreats little by little as the sun begins to rise. Taeyong stands and dusts off his pants to look around aimlessly just to have something to do, to distract his mind from going to places he wishes not to visit.

A familiar beep comes from the storage room. Without wasting a second he pads across and snatches Jaehyun’s phone from the younger’s loose grip, eventually waking the latter who groggily mumbles.

There’s a new message.

“L, wake the fuck up.” Taeyong grasps the other’s arm, dragging him out of sleep to shove the phone on his face. “Tell me what it says.”

The rough voice wakes everyone and once again, dread greets them like a mocking ‘good morning.’

Without a choice, L reads the message, forcing his mind to work in the early morning so he can translate it as quick as possible.

_‘Rose, pietre, il letto della morte. Capire il proprio nemico significa comprendere la sua mente. Vieni con I soldi che abbiamo perso. Ricordi? È quanto costa.’_

_“_ Rose, stones, bed of the dead. To see your enemy is to see its head. Come with the money we lost. Do you remember? It’s how much you cost.”

Taeyong looks at the message. “Are we talking about a cemetery here? Where did they bury your boss?”

“In Père Lachaise.”

“You’re fucking kidding me,” A devious laugh erupts from the blue-eyed man, remembering what he did there not even a day ago. Just then, the phone in his hand rings and he swiftly turns away from Jaehyun’s approaching hand to answer the call.

He doesn’t speak.

_‘How’s your sleep? We hope you had good dreams because this one right here did not even get a wink of it. I think he’s afraid that if he closes his eyes, they won’t open ever again.’_

Johnny blocks Yuta with an arm when the Japanese makes a move to approach Taeyong. The call is still in loud speaker mode for all of them to hear.

And what they hear next sets their hearts aflame, wishing nothing but death to fall upon their enemies.

‘ _You’re not getting what you want! They’re going to kill you! I swe–‘_

Sicheng doesn’t get to finish what he’s saying. Muffled, violent noises slip through the phone. The arsonist’s been gagged.

_‘I hope your friend is wrong. He’s been saying things that don’t make sense, trying to instill fear in everyone here. Are you even where I want you all to be? I hope the messages are understood. It just spices up the game. We will see you soon.’_

The call ends after that. Jaehyun catches the phone as it is haphazardly tossed in his direction. Taeyong scratches his head, his face morphing into its usual blank slate. “How much was I sold that time? I wasn’t paying attention.”

“€80,000,000”

“That’s merely a coin to Invictus now, right? We need the money. Cygnus just made their much-awaited appearance.”

“Let’s go!” Johnny’s voice rings in the already cold morning air. “We won’t let this day end without Winwin.”

 

0o0o0

 

They had quickly made a trip to one of the banks associated with Invictus. Granted with the exact amount of money in several bags, they head straight to Père Lachaise with renewed energy. They’re aware that it is highly likely that Sicheng is still not there, but another location is another place closer to the arsonist.

They just need to keep going.

True to their intuition, they find no trace of the Chinese man. But they find Alessio’s tomb at the very back of the cemetery, hidden away from the public’s eye.

Taeyong dumps the bags over the tomb covered in a thin layer of snow. The light drizzle of soft white started when they left the abandoned headquarters. At this point, nobody gives a damn on the drop of temperature. They’re heated enough to keep themselves warm.

“So what now? For how many hours do you think we’re going to stay here?” Ten questions with an annoyed huff. “That HQ is better than thi–“

“Quiet.” Taeyong interrupts as he finds a paper over the tomb. A smirk grows on his face when he sees who it came from. “Hey, L. I think you have another job to do.”

Their impromptu translator trudges up to Taeyong with an unreadable expression. No one notices the way he stands next to the caramel-head with no gap between their arms – except for Jaehyun.

The Kingpin doesn’t know what he’s looking at but he doesn’t like it.

“ _Solo Lee Taeyong potrà venire. Se porti qualcon altro allora Dong Sicheng morirà.”_ L hands the note back to the knife thrower. “It basically says only you will come. Sicheng will die if you come with someone else.”

Taeyong raises a brow, eyes skimming over the foreign sentence. “Where the hell am I supposed to go?” Reflexively glancing back at the tomb, he notices another paper. This time it’s a picture of a theater. “ _Qu’est-ce que ça veut?”_ He mumbles in his mother tongue as he continues to stare at the picture, squinting as he reads a small note at the bottom of it: _it ends at the place where you killed the kingpin of Cygnus._

Then it suddenly clicks.

“The fucking theater,” Taeyong curses, crumpling the photo in his hand as he looks at the squad. “They fucking have Sicheng at the auction venue.”

They all follow the knife thrower as Taeyong makes his way back to the van, wrenching the door open. “Johnny, drive back to Gambetta. I need all the weapons I can bring.”

 

The vault room in the Gambetta hideout is veiled by the large painting of _The Empire of Flora_ by the end of the hallway. All the weapons – guns of different calibers, an array of knives, explosives and other deadly tools, even torture equipment are kept inside.

For Lee Taeyong, it’s _home._

He emerges out of the vault room carrying several of different knives specifically designed for his expertise – switchblades, gravity and ballistic knives, stilettos, daggers and folding cleavers made to cut through bones, as well as a handgun.

The squad together with L, watch him swiftly insert all the knives in straps before taking off his top to wrap it around his torso. Jaehyun honestly doesn’t know how it works, how he manages to grab all the knives in a blink of an eye and how the blades don’t cut through his skin.

Perhaps they will never understand the strength of the only Red Phoenix member surpassing a Diamond card.

“Taeyong, we’re going with you.” Jaehyun stands beside the knife thrower, beside the person that he possibly treasures the most.

“Didn’t you get the last message? They want me alone. If I bring you there, Sicheng is dead. Do you want them to fucking kill him because I let you come?” The caramel-head zips up the last strap and puts his shirt back on.

Yuta voices out a disagreement. “But you don’t know how many men are there waiting for you!”

Burning blue eyes dart over the Japanese, fatally intense. “I need no fucking reinforcements. They want me, they’re getting me. These bastards disparaged me by taking Sicheng instead – and I’ll face them alone. But if you wanna help, do so when it calls.”

“When it calls?” Jaehyun exclaims in both anger and worry. Taeyong is offering himself up to the enemies. “That’s Sicheng we’re talking about. What if he’s not there? What if they’re tricking you? Of course we’re fighting too and…and you shouldn’t do this alone. I don’t want you to do this alone.”

“Listen, Jaehyun – and the rest of you,” Taeyong’s tone leaves no room for protest. “They just want to see _me_. If they catch you, who’s suffering? Isn’t it Sicheng, the person we’re trying to fucking save? You’ll know when to give it a go. But while I’m doing fine, don’t interfere. I know Sicheng said you don’t care about me and he’s important to all of you so I won’t jeopardize that. If I get hurt then I get fucking hurt, you will only move to get Sicheng.”

Taeyong’s eyes roll so hard in the back of his head that he almost feels it get stuck. “Not being a martyr so close your mouths. I don’t want Jaehyun crying to me if his friend dies.” Turning around, the Red Phoenix heir inserts the gun in the holster on his back. He goes back to the vault room with the Invictus kingpin in tow and hastily fills an arm of grenades.

“It’s the last time I’m harming people, I promise. If me killing is what you’re worried about.” Taeyong says monotonously without facing the younger.

Jaehyun’s eyes are on the older’s back, watching the muscles ripple beneath the clothes. “The last time you made a promise, you broke it. You escaped the asylum. You were supposed to be there for a longer time.”

“You know, Jaehyun,” Taeyong turns around, expression blank. “Some promises are meant to be broken, especially the ones that keep me away from you.”

His chest pounds as though an invisible force pummels it and the air is knocked out of his lungs. He’s rooted on his spot even as Taeyong leaves the vault room to hand the explosives to Johnny, and even as Jaehyun tries to listen, the only thing he hears is the rush of blood in his veins and the alarming beating of his heart.

 _Holy shit._ Lee Taeyong has that effect that might possibly kill him and Jaehyun doesn’t even mind one fucking bit of it.

***

The van stops 50 meters away from the theater. Taeyong pulls the stick of the lollipop out of his mouth and swirls the candy before munching down on it, breaking it in pieces. “So. You can’t join me in the game, sad to say. When I don’t come out of that place in thirty minutes after the first gunshot echoes, you’re free to do whatever you want. But most especially, take Sicheng. He’s your priority.” Taeyong pats Jaehyun’s thigh and gets out of the van, sending them a salute before casually walking to his destination, hands slipped in his pockets as though he’s not about to get into another war.

Ever since the sabotage at the auction, the area had been completely devoid of life. Besides, the place has always been one that people don’t normally find themselves in. So whatever transpires at the ruined theater, nobody’s ever going to live long enough to know.

Taeyong briskly walks through the piercing cold wind. The chilly breeze tries to stab through his clothes but he’s undeterred with his mind already focused on what’s going to welcome him, and absolutely nothing will be able to take the wind right out of his sails. It’s only then, when he steps into the rundown theater does it dawn on him that he’s got no one to back him up for a whole half an hour of men raining bullets and whatnot on him. He doesn’t even have an idea as to how many are waiting to have his head on a platter. Not that it matters.

_If I die, than that’s it. That’s the most deserved ending of this fucking tragic life story._

The place is still empty. He’s at the lobby that is dusted with powdered concrete and grime. The walls are perforated, cracked. When the wind howls, it echoes inside, emphasizing the fact that it’s empty, lifeless and haunted. Scattered debris on the ground is what accompanies Lee Taeyong for ten minutes until the sounds of vehicles reach his ears.

The game is about to begin.

“Lee Taeyong,”

A man looking like he’s in his 30s, dressed in all black from head to toe leads a group of men, 10 in number. It’s the owner of the voice that had called the first time – Zero.

“So I see you’re the kind of man that listens well to his master like a dog, coming alone with no one to control your leash.” The insult doesn’t even get to him. If anything, it’s almost cheap amusement. “I trust that you didn’t bring anyone else with you. Because we’ll be damned if they ever appear and the game isn’t finished. Anyway,” Zero takes a few steps forward, arrogance steaming out of him. “Word said one needs to get rid of you before anything else is done. So the other Invictus pests will be the next ones to go down after we’re done with you.”

“Whoever said that is right, not that I’m bragging – and are you going to yap ‘til the end of the day because,” Taeyong picks his ear. “I didn’t come here to talk. Where is Sicheng?”

“Now, now. Let’s get to that later. Did you leave the money in Père Lachaise?”

Taeyong watches as the men pull out their guns, cocking. It only _exhilarates_ him. “Of course. I mean, I might be ruthless, but I’m willing to give charity to have all of you stop panhandling around. Tell me, how does it feel to _beg_?”

Zero’s face tightens. “You will know when I make you.”

“Nuh-uh!” Taeyong raises a hand, halting their movements. “Tell me _your,“_ He turns to the man standing beside Zero. He almost looks just like the rest of the irrelevant men, only that the anger and revenge on his face are just as strong on him as they are on Zero’s. “Name first. Isn’t it unfair you know mine and I don’t know yours? This isn’t how friendship works.”

The man in question scoffs, rotating a pistol. “Elijah – f you’re that hell-bent on knowing the names of your murderers. You killed my father.”

“Ohoho, so you’re the Cygnus guy! Where are your underlings?” Taeyong looks around with his lips pursed. “I don’t see much.”

“Don’t worry; they’re on standby, waiting for the right time to put you where you belong.”

“And where is that?”

“Right in the middle of this place, covered in your own blood.”

“Sweet.” Taeyong sing-songs, caressing his stomach over the clothes. The feel of knives invigorates him.  “But you got some things wrong. Because I asked for your names so I’ll know what to put on your gravestones. And the only one dying in here is everyone…” The Red Phoenix heir slips a hand beneath his shirt. “But me.”

They don’t see it coming. Lee Taeyong hurls four knives against the men, accurately striking their jugulars. He moves swiftly as blood spurts from their wounds, hiding behind a ruined wall as they recover from shock and begin to rain bullets.

Taeyong stays hidden for a while, waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike back. The handgun is hot and heavy in his hands as he cocks it, ready to blow their brains off. “Four, Zero! Four! I already killed four of your fucking men and I haven’t even fucking sweat it out yet!” The caramel-head gets out of his hiding spot to shoot twice, missing. His back is pressed against the wall again before another set of throwing knives cuts through the air, ending between the eyes of Venandi men.

Honestly, he can’t distinguish them. He’s uncertain whether their group is a mixture of Cygnus and Venandi. But it doesn’t matter because they will all look the same when they are festering six feet under.

“I will kill you, Taeyong! You will pay for it!” Several shots reverberate in the air. Taeyong mentally counts – it’s been five minutes. He still has 25 minutes left to finish them all or for them to finish him. Until then, he needs to make do with his own while the squad is waiting.

Two daggers pierce through the chest of one man. Just as Taeyong begins to think he’s winning, another group of them enter, and he’s back behind the wall, reloading a gun. He’s got no more patience to spare. This has to end as soon as possible.

He runs to a pillar. He pulls out another set of throwing knives, tossing it to the enemies and taking down three. A curse slips past his lips when one of the knives misses a man, impaling against a wall instead.

Shouts and screams fill the abandoned theater. Taeyong tries to save the knives and uses the gun instead, spilling all the bullets until one, two, three more men are down and Zero is starting to get impatient.

It’s been fifteen minutes and Lee Taeyong is still alive.

“Come out, Lee Taeyong. You know you will not live long enough to see this day end.”

From where he is, the knife thrower spots a vehicle parked by the entrance. One of its windows is down and his eyes harden at the sight of Dong Sicheng in it, tied and bloodied on the face.

_Bastards. You said he won’t get hurt._

“I guess it’s time for payback.” Taeyong presses a button on his belt. It’s the emergency call to the squad when the thirty minutes are over – but he can’t stall. Sicheng needs immediate help.

He’s about to run out of bullets, second magazine used up when one by one, the enemies get shot. Taeyong sees Yuta and Jaehyun with their guns aimed at Cygnus and Venandi. As the attention is briefly taken away, the addition of the Invictus squad catching the two orgs off-guard, Sicheng is whisked off by Doyoung and immediately transferred to their van.

Ten is the one driving this time. That means Johnny and possibly L are left behind.

Taeyong doesn’t know where the others are hiding but they should be safe enough. He climbs the second floor through the staircase at the corner and gets into a better angle, using his last bullets to kill the worthless men of the foreign orgs.

As he glances down, he sees Jaehyun, brows furrowed in concentration. “Hey!” Taeyong calls the younger’s attention. “I ran out of bullets! They’re still coming in!”

“I got extra! Stay there!” Jaehyun goes into hiding. Several seconds pass before he appears again, tossing the magazine to Taeyong’s way.

He’s got ahold of the magazine when Jaehyun’s cries pierce through the place. Taeyong glances down to see the kingpin with his bloodied hand pressed against his chest. The gun has skidded across the floor from the impact of the bullet grazing Jaehyun’s hand.

Yuta’s eyes widen. Jaehyun can’t fight – from the many times he’s seen the other shoot, he knows Jaehyun’s Gold card is useless and his aim is shit when he uses his left hand.

Then promptly, everything comes back to him, heightening his emotions. These men lied. These men hurt Sicheng. These men took the person most important to him.

“You’re all going to pay…” The Japanese gunman comes out of his hiding spot, snatching the gun on the floor to toss it to an unsuspecting L from behind. “Don’t think! Just shoot!”

He braves the onslaught of bullets, successfully dodging and hiding behind another wall. He’s gotten closer now. Yuta shoots, set to use all the bullets. He doesn’t care whoever he kills. He doesn’t care if he gets fatally shot and he won’t come back to Invictus. What matters is he’s doing all of this for Sicheng, he’s doing all of this to give the pain back, a hundred – even a thousand times worse.

Blood runs down his arm. He doesn’t even notice that a bullet is in him, doesn’t feel the pain. The area around the wound begins to get numb and tears blur his vision.

_I won’t forgive all of you for taking him._

Taeyong is numb. He hasn’t moved an inch, or he does – he’s unaware of it. Everything around him is blurred, and all the gunshots ringing in the air is suddenly gone. All he sees is the blood on Jaehyun’s hand and the man struggling to stop the blood from flowing as he presses it on his chest, shirt now soaked with red.

Memories of _that_ night flash in his mind. Jaehyun was bleeding. Jaehyun was unconscious and he won’t fucking wake up no matter how hard the caramel-head slapped him. It was raining and Taeyong remembers feeling like the world was close to its end with the younger man’s head resting on his lap, the red, viscous liquid and its metallic stench clinging to him.

Bile rises up his throat and Taeyong retches. He can never stomach the thought of Jaehyun dying. He will kill everyone, lick their blood off his blades and mesh their innards and still, he will never bat an eye but when it’s Jung Jaehyun on the line, he wonders why his insides disapprovingly churn and suddenly, the smell of blood isn’t enticing anymore.  

_No one can kill him before you do, Taeyong. No one can break Jung Jaehyun in a lot of ways if it’s not you._

Blue eyes trail over the young kingpin. Jaehyun struggles to get up but is pressed down by Johnny. They have no other guns. L is using Jaehyun’s, shit at aiming, and Johnny had taken their extra.

Something inside the knife thrower clicks. All that has changed in him reverts to their darker sides and his eyes glaze over with the urge to kill, kill, _kill._

_Murder them, Taeyong._

_Kill them all._

The voice in his head whispers. And in a blink of an eye he hops off of the second floor, landing next to Yuta and shouting through the noises of gunshots and a sudden explosion that flips the cars outside, breaking them into pieces.

“Fucking bastards!” Taeyong hops over a debris and impales a dagger through one of the enemies’ skull, the end of the blade passing through the other side of the head. Blood splashes on his face when he pulls it out and just as he turns to come for Elijah, the other has already run out of the place. _Fucking coward._

Johnny and L continue to shoot the men. Taeyong glances up to see Zero on the second floor, the opposite side of where he was earlier.

“Mm, you’re hiding, aren’t you…”

“Taeyong watch out!”

He makes a move to head to the staircase when a vehicle speeds inside and hits the knife thrower, sending Taeyong skidding across the rough concrete floor.

Jaehyun calls for the other’s name but Taeyong is not moving. He urges Johnny to keep shooting and tosses another magazine for the taller to reload the gun.

Someone comes out of the vehicle and steps over the unmoving man on the ground. From their spot, they can’t shoot whoever it is as the vehicle blocks the way, hindering the Invictus members from taking him down.

“This one is dead!”

Jaehyun’s heart freezes.

It can’t be.

The man crouches to grab a handful of Taeyong’s long, caramel tresses and rolls him on his back. Just as he leans in to check if the knife thrower’s breathing, a pair of blue eyes stares right through him.

“Ouch.”

Taeyong takes the man by surprise, not giving him a chance to react as he presses the muzzle of his gun on the enemy’s throat, pulling the trigger. Slabs of flesh hit him after blowing off the man’s throat. “Fucking take that.”

In no time he’s up again, hopping over the vehicle to shoot the remaining men, aiming either right between their eyes or straight to their hearts. When he runs out bullets again, Taeyong grabs an enemy’s hand, pulls out a small cleaver from the strap attached to his torso and cuts the limb, tossing the hand at the next man that charges at him. He evades the attack, sidestepping him with a violent twist of the man’s arm before stabbing the man straight through his heart. Using the man’s arm, Taeyong hikes the weight over his shoulder and uses the body to shield himself from incoming bullets.

It’s not enough. Some of them are still up.

As his patience runs out, Taeyong thinks _fuck it_ , runs and skids across the asphalt, the concrete painfully grazing his skin to hurl several throwing knives on the men shooting from the second floor in only a matter of seconds. He trips one of them in the process, sending the other on his back on the floor before driving a blade on the base of their throat. The pathetic man splutters, grabbing the open wound, and Taeyong watches as life is quickly drained from their terrified eyes.

He continues to fight, dodging a kick on his head and driving his boot on the man’s balls before sending an uppercut to the enemy’s jaw, grabbing the staggering man’s head from behind to yank and break the neck without so much as a word from him. One of the sharpest knives he has is finally taken out of the strap and it cuts through the man’s neck, splitting flesh, spurting blood and slicing bones in several tugs until the head detaches from the body.

Splotches of blood are already stuck to him from head to toe. Taeyong glances back to see Yuta and Johnny take over. They can finish the remaining ones.

Which leaves a frightened Zero to him.

He slowly climbs the staircase, decapitated head of a nameless man still in his grasp while he  holds an eye contact with Venandi’s second-in-command. He can _smell_ the fear radiating off of the man’s trembling form.

It makes him want to have a taste of it.

“It’s been a long time coming, Zero. You might be wondering how I know your name when I only asked Elijah’s. The thing is,” His head tilts to the right, huge eyes still glued at the opponent before him. “We got a little Venandi on our side. Doesn’t it hurt your big, manly ego?”

Zero points the gun at him and pulls the trigger. Nothing comes out of it.

Taeyong chortles, malice and _devilry_ dripping fresh from it. “You’re dying next.” He tosses the head to the man’s direction and it rolls pathetically to Zero’s feet. “How do you feel?”

“I don’t.” The man’s gruff voice can’t even hide the nervousness in it.

“Oh?” Amusement bubbles in the knife thrower’s chest. “Don’t be ridiculous. That’s my line.”

His nonchalance provokes Zero even more and Taeyong wants to laugh because it’s _useless_ to be mad at the knife thrower when in a minute or two, the other’s nothing but another version of their kingpin – dead and forgotten.

“I’ll ki–“

Too much talk. A knife flings across and digs through Zero’s thigh, sending him kneeling on the ground. The sound of the man’s pained cries is music to his ears – just like the pleas and shouts of Kim Jaeseok and Moon Taeil combined.

He finds himself standing behind Zero. Taeyong yanks his head back, neck bent painfully. “Do you see that?” His other hand grabs the man’s jaw and forces him to watch what happens down below. “Two men remain. In a few seconds, you’re nothing but history that no one will ever retell.”

Zero trembles violently in his hold, begging to be spared in a shaky, broken voice.

“I told you you’re going to die, didn’t I? Look where arrogance got you.” Taeyong’s lips brush over the man’s earlobe, his breath tickling it. “You know what I want to do to you, Zero?”

The man shakes his head vigorously. “No – _please,_ let me go. I’ll run, I won’t take the money and I won’t bother Invictus anymore. I’m sorry!”

“You’re sorry? Tch. You’re going to be a lot more than that.” His words make the man beg harder, louder. And Taeyong is living for it. “Again. Do you know what I’ll do to you?”

“No… Please…”

“That’s unfortunate.” Taeyong’s shoulders shake as he laughs. “I think I’ll show you instead.”

Cries echo throughout the theater as Taeyong goes _berserk,_ driving _three_ knives through Zero’s chest, all of it passing through the pathetic man’s body. He doesn’t stop there – one of the knives slices down, from the chest to the stomach before it’s twisted around and dragged back up. Zero has long fallen limp in his hold but he continues, ripping through the flesh.

Taeyong keeps the body from falling. With a single kick to the torso, the torn part of it comes off and drops the ground with a wet, disgusting squelch. He picks up the heart, mercilessly squeezes it in his hand to drain the blood out of it before having a taste of the crimson liquid trickling down his forearm. Taeyong licks up a stripe and tosses the organ together with the body when he’s done, sated. It drops with a sickening, gut-wrenching thud as the neck breaks from the impact.

Silence fills the theater. Johnny, Jaehyun and Yuta are slack-jawed, having witnessed what Lee Taeyong did to the last Venandi man. It’s not the first time they’ve seen him in his element, completely mad and deranged, succumbing to the murderous desires. But even though, it still takes their breath away, and a mixture of awe and horror buzzes in their veins.

The same thought occurs in their minds then – that no matter the circumstance, no matter the number of enemies and war awaits, Lee Taeyong will always be the last man standing.

The knife thrower climbs down the stairs with a smooth gait as though he hadn’t just barbarically murdered several people. Red is splattered on him from head to toe and the only thing that Jaehyun hates about it is the way it’s coloring Taeyong’s caramel hair.

“Where’s L?” Is the first thing he says when he reaches them. Jaehyun pretends not to be annoyed. Besides, there are more pressing matters at hand – just like his bleeding palm. The skin is split open, courtesy of the bullet that grazed it.

Suddenly, someone enters the scene. It’s L with Elijah, the latter trying to get out of the former’s vice-like hold. “I caught him. Found him hiding at the back.” L shoves the man to Taeyong’s feet.

Elijah scrambles to get up, grunting as a boot meets the base of his throat then he’s on his back, struggling to breathe, choking as seconds tick by with Taeyong stepping down his neck.

“What is it? I can’t hear you.” Taeyong crouches, making a show of leaning in to hear better. Elijah only splutters as the foot digs harder down his neck. “Ah, alright. Since you asked so nicely.”

Taeyong removes his foot from the man’s throat – only to snap the neck without a word. Elijah’s head hits the concrete with a thump.   

No one speaks. The Red Phoenix heir ignores them in favor of approaching Jaehyun, squatting down the kingpin’s level. “I need a phone.”

“For what?”

“To call Ten. We need a ride. Johnny busted all these cars.”

“No need,” Yuta interrupts, putting the gun back in its holster. “We decided we’re heading to Garnet – they have Kim Jaejoong.”

“Oh, right.” Taeyong stares at the Silver-rate gunman before chuckling. “I think I fucking broke a rib.” He drops to the floor then, clutching his side. “That fucker got me good.”

Jaehyun drags himself to Taeyong’s side as Johnny calls for Garnet’s aid. “I hope you’re not mad I still reached out to them.”

“I don’t–“ Taeyong grunts, now feeling the pain course through his body. “I don’t give a flying fuck. Tell them to get their fucking asses here.”

“They’re on their way.” The younger assures him, raking his good hand through the sticky, matted tresses. “They’re on their way…”

Finally, it’s done. They got Sicheng, they’re all alive. Hoping that no other enemies will appear out of the blue, Jaehyun closes his eyes and listens to his own, pounding heartbeat. He thought Taeyong got killed. The fear, the dread – it was just like _that_ night. He wouldn’t know what to do if it came to that.

 

0o0o0

 

Garnet’s clinic is twice the size of Red Phoenix’s and Invictus’. Ten stands before the bed where Sicheng is, scribbling down a clipboard. “You got a fractured nose and a cut over your eye but aside from those, nothing’s serious. For a week or two you’ll stay ugly with equally ugly bruises – that’s the bad news.”

Sicheng playfully punches the nurse’s arm. “Don’t be like that. You’ll take care of me. Bet you’re happy as fuck you got a patient.”

“You bet.” The Thai nurse snorts before peeking out of the curtain that divides Sicheng’s bed from another as a cacophony of noises fill the clinic. Garnet’s medical staff immediately tends to the rest of Invictus. The Chinese arsonist perks up as Yuta is placed on the bed next to his.

Ten rolls his eyes and pulls the drapes to the side to allow Sicheng to see.

“Well…” Sicheng starts, staring at the Japanese’s face. “You look like shit.”

“Thanks. You look worse.” Yuta lets a curse slip past his lips as the doctor injects him before he begins to feel lightheaded. “I’m glad you’re safe…”

Sicheng smiles. The doctor – Kim Jaejoong says something that he doesn’t understand before the curtains are pulled again.

Only Ten manages to catch the arsonist’s words and he finds that he doesn’t have a reason to disagree.

“I told them Taeyong will come for them. They should’ve listened to me.”

 

***

The Invictus Kingpin wasn’t given a chance to take a rest after his hand was treated, stitched and wrapped with a bandage before Fort himself had looked for him. The leader of Garnet takes him to the former’s office, hinting a serious talk.

“I can feel that it’s urgent.” Jaehyun says, inspecting his injured hand. “If you’re going to ask about Taeyong, Kim Jaejoong is now checking up on him in one of the private rooms. Taeyong won’t stay in the clinic and get checked up in the open.”

“I figured as much,” Fort stands before his younger business partner, scrutinizing Jaehyun. “Tell me. Did he insist on taking them down on his own?”

“He did. He only allowed us to join if he wasn’t done in half an hour, but before it even reached 30 minutes we got an alarm from him. I think it’s because he found Sicheng.”

Quietness stretches between the two bosses for a minute as Yunho looks out the window, watching his men bring shipments in. “What kind of business are you planning to start here, Jaehyun?”

Confusion begins to settle in his mind. From what he remembers, Fort told him to think about it again, especially the building of Invictus HQ in France – but it seems like the other is suddenly interested. “I’m thinking of loaning money and starting a casino. I’ve already discussed it with the advisors and they gave me a go. I don’t know when I’m going to start it since I need to think about the dif–“

“Jaehyun,” The Garnet leader cuts in, looking at him. “You know that I’m here to guide you, correct? I know more than you do and I’m willing to offer aid. You’re young, smart – but you’ve gotten to the top right away and I’ll be frank – it’s not just because of your own persistence. I’m not saying it’s a bad thing, but this – branching out, flying back and forth, handling both local and international affairs, it will be overwhelming.”

“I know. It’s been my…my dream to be known, to build such an undefeatable reputation.” Jaehyun guesses he should be touched, or whatever it is called since someone who knows what he’s doing is looking out for him. After everything, he knows he still needs more than what he’s already advised with.

Yunho nods, approaching his desk and sitting on its edge. “Fair enough. But handling both branches that are miles and miles apart, it will take a toll on you, both physically and mentally. There’s a reason why Garnet, despite being a Korean mafia is permanently in France. Is greed for power and control enough to compensate?”

His forehead creases, slightly ticked by the question. “Greed is only natural in our line of work, Fort. I don’t think it’s something that I should reconsider.”

“You’re technically Red Phoenix. Invictus was their subgroup. You used their projects; you are catering to their clients. And that isn’t even the optimal part,” Yunho smiles. “You are housing their heir.”

Jaehyun straightens, heart pounding. “What are you trying to say, Fort?”

“What I’m saying is,” The Garnet boss leans back, regarding Jaehyun with nothing but calmness. “You’re building another HQ with a new project and at the same time continuing what’s already been existing – the projects that the Red Phoenix heir should be handling by himself. And you can’t do this alone. You clearly need another hand in this.” Yunho’s expression turns serious and from that, Jaehyun knows the other is not just playing. Fort never plays. “Two headquarters. You are a reliable, strong, wise kingpin – but you also need someone who is not afraid of going through the battle alone, someone who lives through bouts of flames and pricks of ice. Someone who looks at death right in the eyes. Someone who is just as capable and someone you know deserve what you have – because it was theirs.”

“…I thought you don’t get personal with anyone other than Red Phoenix?”

“The one we are talking about is their heir, and one of my members.”

Jaehyun’s head hangs low as he weighs his options, weighs everything that was said to him. He doesn’t have the right to deny Fort. Everything that was told to him, everything that was rubbed on his face is true. The heir of Red Phoenix is alive. Even if Taeyong doesn’t care about the organization, he is still the second-in-command after its leader. And everything should’ve fallen into Lee Taeyong’s hands.

He can’t be selfish now. He can’t be when Lee Taeyong is involved.

“Are you sure you’re not saying these to me because you’re looking out for your member?”

The question softens Fort’s face, erasing the seriousness. “Perhaps I am. I told you I wasn’t going to help if it doesn’t involve him. But basically, he was still involved, fighting all of those men to get one of yours back. He managed to come out alive of that auction before I even terminated Cygnus and Venandi. The reason why I wouldn’t get in between while it was going on – is because I know Ethan could do it by himself. And he did, proving yet again that he doesn’t need me. I would be insulting him if I insisted on helping. I put my trust in him just like my father put his trust on Lee Namgyu. That’s also what I’m expecting from you.”

No response comes from the leader of Invictus. Jaehyun’s mind is blank. He can’t decide this right away. Actually, he isn’t the one that should be deciding anything.

As ironic as it is, Fort takes the lack of response as the answer itself. The suggestion is sudden, but too important to postpone.

“When you come to a decision, you know where to find me.”  

***

Jaehyun enters one of the rooms that Fort had generously lent. The door closes softly behind him just as the knife thrower’s eyes open, darting straight to the kingpin’s form.

“I told you to get some sleep.”

“Well I can’t fucking sleep so suck it up.” A grumble comes from the older as he pushes himself to sit up in bed, back touching the headboard. “Where have you been?”

“I was talking to Fort. I see they got you cleaned up already. Nice robe.” A chuckle rumbles out of the younger’s chest as he sits on the bed, facing Taeyong. “What did they say about the rib?”

“It’s not a broken rib because of all the shit they considered. But it’s going to bruise – actually it already is. It’s just sore.”

“And you were exaggerating?”

“Fuck you, I am still fucking hurt. Don’t fuck with me.”  

The influx of curses ticks Jaehyun off and he sighs, scratching his cheek. Taeyong will never learn how to speak without swearing the life out of anyone talking to him.  

And it’s not a good thing for a future leader of a first-rate organization.

“Can you please stop saying fuck every two seconds?”

Taeyong glares momentarily before a glint of naughtiness crosses his eyes. “Why the hell? Would you rather I _do_ it?”

Of course, he can also never survive a day without being sexually vulgar.

“Taeyong, I have something to propose to you.”

“Same-sex marriage is accepted in France but _no,_ Jaehyun. It is not on my bucket list. I don’t even have a bucket list.” Though the words are playful, Taeyong’s expression says otherwise. When he does it, when he puts on that unreadable look, no one can see through him at all, not even Jaehyun.

Ignoring the unsolicited comment, Jaehyun continues. “You know how Invictus is building another HQ based here, right?”

The knife thrower’s eye twitches. “Just get straight to the point. Is it too hard now that I proved that you are, indeed, not straight?”

Jaehyun is tight-lipped. He really, _really_ wants to hit Taeyong sometimes. “Will you ever take thing seriously?”

“Never. Unless I _want_ to take it seriously.”

_I guess I need to cut to the chase, huh._

“I need you to man the French HQ.”

Taeyong’s eyes harden. “ _Manning the HQ_. Is that a less fancy word for being another kingpin of Invictus, Red Phoenix’s copy?”

Jaehyun shrugs. “If that’s how you want to put it. Listen, Taeyong. It’s time you need to take things seriously. Life is short, but that’s the more reason why you have to get it together. You are highly valuable. You are more than just a knife thrower, more than just a hidden heir, more than just a mental patient. You are Lee Taeyong and you have no idea how many people will be willing to wrap themselves around your finger. You have no idea how much you can do.”

Warmth covers the blue-eyed man’s hands, thanks to Jaehyun’s own.

“Taeyong, let me be the first one to tell you I believe in you.”

A sudden laughter erupts from the caramel-head, startling Jaehyun. Taeyong withdraws his hands and clenches them, stopping the approaching quivers. “That’s so fucking dramatic. Just say you wanna partner up and go, this goddamned poet.”

“…Are you doing it?”

“What can I do? I’m bored as fuck after you brought me to that asylum to tame me. Honestly, I was kinda worried about what I’m gonna do once I’m out of that shithole.” Taeyong stares wide eyed at him, lips pursed. “Fine. Let’s make use of my title. Heir, isn’t it? But I have a question.”

 _Things are really much easier when the news is not broken to him aggressively,_ Jaehyun muses. He will keep that in mind.

“Ask whatever.”

“Do you think Lee Namgyu would’ve been proud of me?” A frown etches itself on the knife thrower’s face while he’s seemingly pulled into a deep thought.

A little taken aback by the question, the Invictus kingpin gets off the bed to walk to the window and watch the drizzle of snow. “Hm, I think he will brag you to both ends of the world.”

Taeyong’s expression shifts to that of annoyance. “First request as an unofficial leader – I will need you to stop pulling those poetic shit on me, alright?”

Shallow amusement is apparent on the younger’s face when he looks back at the older, at his future equal in terms of leadership. “Okay.”

“Good. So fuckin’ insufferable.”

They don’t speak for a moment, contented with just the comfortable silence – until something knocks at the back of Taeyong’s head, calling for his attention. “Hey, is L still here?”

“Why the fuck do you keep on asking about him? If you want to see him, then go look for him yourself.”

The sudden aggression catches the knife thrower off-guard. He almost questions the abrupt change in Jaehyun’s mood but he smirks as realization dawns on him. “My attraction only applies to you, so don’t be jealous.”

“I’m not jealous.”

“Yes, you are. Anyway, stop being a kid. I’m wondering since I’ll need subordinates, right? Be a dear and give the man a stable job.”

“Why,” Jaehyun starts, irritated. “Why do you want to take him, of all people? He’s an ex-Venandi. Have you forgotten? You must have knocked your head pretty bad.”

Calloused fingers rake through caramel strands, parting it on the side. They fall into their right place, exposing Taeyong’s forehead. “He’s useful. Are you not going to let me have a say when you just _begged_ me to take over the French headquarters? What kind of control are you giving me - something that only works when you allow it?” A snarl elicits from the knife thrower’s mouth. “You know I hate being controlled.”

“Fuck,” Jaehyun hisses, glaring at the older. “Fine. But do background checks before you take him in.”

In a split second the hostility is gone from Taeyong’s face, replaced with an unnerving smile. “Thank you. I appreciate that. One more thing – since I’m staying in the French HQ, then that means I’d have to be away from you again.”

Irritation slowly dissipates from the younger’s face as he is reminded of a crucial fact. Yet before he voices out his own concern, Taeyong beats him to it with a nonchalant response.

“As long as we talk on the phone and I'm given the medicines I’ve been taking in the asylum, I’ll be fine. I’ve gotten better, alright. I think just hearing your voice is enough to keep me going. But you’re going to visit sometimes…?”

“Yeah,” Jaehyun says, a little breathless. Taeyong is looking at him, straight-faced yet his usually guarded eyes are now _exposed_ for Jaehyun to see what has been hidden away from him, what hasn’t been willingly confessed to him – affection. “Yeah, I’ll see you whenever I can.”

 

0o0o0

 

Ten months.

Ten months was how long it took for Invictus to build another headquarters in Bordeaux, France and to settle all important details, set-up a system, and to finalize the start of a new business.

There are no technical reasons as to why it was built in Bordeaux – except that it was Lee Taeyong’s – Invictus’ second kingpin’s birthplace.  

For the celebration of its opening, Fort organizes a gala. It’s to inform the availability of Invictus and its accessibility to other groups as well as the clients of their joint business. It will also be a platform for Jaehyun to announce the opening of the _Red Phoenix_ Casino.

And last but not the least – Garnet will finally introduce their hidden member.

The glittery, golden half mask sits perfectly on Taeyong’s face. He stands in front of a full-length mirror in one of the VIP rooms in the same hotel that Garnet has always booked for their pompous gatherings, doing a last-minute check on his appearance.

“Relax,” Jaehyun teases from behind, staring at the caramel-head’s reflection. On his face is a mask looking exactly like the other’s. “You’re just going to stand there while Fort introduces you. You don’t need to say anything.”

It doesn’t calm the dull jitters that Taeyong is feeling. “But all eyes are going to _look_ at me.”

“You’ll be fine, I swear.”

Knocks rap on the door before it’s opened by Jaehyun and Yunho comes in, mask already worn. “You need to be there in five minutes.”

“I’m counting on my head, geezer.”

The comment makes Fort raise a brow. “I’m not that old.” He then walks over to the Garnet member, replacing Jaehyun’s previous spot behind the caramel-head. “Tonight is the night, Taeyong. I hope you’re not going to back out.”

“Do I need a reason?” The knife thrower turns around, facing Fort. “I’m only here because you want to show me off. Don’t expect me to be closer to you. We’re not family.”

“Think whatever you want, Ethan. I’m doing this so everyone will know not to come for you again.”

“I don’t need it.”

“I know.” Yunho nods before heading to the door. “Perhaps I really just want to show off the strongest member of two crime organizations.”  

***

He lost count again. One, two, three….twenty six? Thirty? There are so many masked people in dresses and suits in front of him, looking up at him on the stage, standing between Jaehyun and Fort. He’s not sure whether he’s finally malfunctioning but the anxiety is gone, his hands are immobile on his sides and his heart beats steadily.

Is it because he’s taken pills earlier?

Probably.

Is it because Jung Jaehyun’s hand is pressed gently on the small of his back, telling him that it’s fine, the enemies are gone, the people before him won’t be able to touch a man of his caliber?

More likely.

Fort talks, announcing the new Invictus headquarters and the advantages it will bring to their clients. “And I believe my business partner has something to say regarding a new business that all of you will surely enjoy.”

The microphone is then handed to Jaehyun.

“Like what Fort said, I will be starting up a business. It’s a casino. I know the news has been going around for some time and yes, it’s based in Bordeaux, and yes, it’s called _Red Phoenix._ ”

Murmurs fill the hall, a mixture of various reactions. Why wouldn’t they be reacting the way they do, when the name reminds them of the fallen organization, the last group that Garnet had the strongest relationship with prior to Invictus?

“You may see it as a tribute to the first-rate organization that we were associated with. Invictus wouldn’t be here without Red Phoenix. Red Phoenix, as elite as they were, gave a second-rate a chance to be their subgroup. I shall not divulge details, but like I’ve said, it’s all because of them that we are here.”

“And speaking of Red Phoenix, its relationship with Garnet is unbeatable, irreplaceable – just like something that it had been keeping in the dark, someone that possesses _both_ organizations’ traits and competence.”

Jaehyun glances at Fort as the latter takes over, smiling radiantly at everyone.

“May I introduce to you – Red Phoenix’s heir, Garnet’s member and Invictus’ second kingpin, Lee Taeyong.”

The Invictus squad members are the ones occupying the table at the very front, at the very center so their reactions, their priceless faces are what Taeyong sees first – and he wants to laugh.  He doesn’t know if he should focus on the way Ten drops his champagne or the way Johnny is scrambling to search for an extra napkin to wipe off the alcohol he spat on Doyoung’s face, the way Sicheng just gapes at him, ignoring the mobile game or the dumbfounded look on Yuta – it’s so obvious that the half mask can’t even hide it anymore.

Even Léonie who is at the table next to the squad is surprised. Of course, the woman has always been out of the loop.

“It had been a secret for a very long time and I know there are no more reasons for him to be held back. Lee Taeyong, with my guidance shall be recognized as member of Garnet. He will be the one to run the Casino business with Jaehyun, as well as be involved in Invictus and Garnet’s joint business as their second kingpin.”

“I hope that this will serve as a reminder that we should always know where we stand,” A pregnant pause settles in the hall before Fort continues. “Because if you think I’m unstoppable, then Lee Taeyong is beyond that.”

Blue eyes roll at the unnecessary stress on his significance in the mafia world. True to his words, Fort doesn’t force him to talk and lets him mingle with the Invictus members as the party resumes.

He can feel the stares at the back of his head. Taeyong absently tugs on the end of his hair as he takes two swigs of the wine, drinking to the last drop.

“That’s what you call a bomb,” Johnny comments as soon as Jaehyun joins them. “I don’t even know what to say?”

“Don’t say anything.” Taeyong deadpans. “I’m already hearing too much so save me the pains of hearing more from you.”

“Fine, fine.”

Jaehyun watches the exchange with a smirk. “Listen to the kingpin, guys. You don’t wanna defy the boss, don’t you?”

From his periphery, Taeyong snatches another glass of wine from the waiter. The squad then focuses on mingling with the other organizations’ members to broaden their network.

“I have a question.”

Jaehyun faces the older, head tilted in interest. “Hm?”

“Remember the war with Dragonaire?”

“Like it’s tattooed in the back of my hand. Why?”

“I need to be sure of something.”

Lee Taeyong was never uncertain in his whole life, having lived through 29 years with a mind of his own, thoughts of his own, and he only needed himself to consult, except for _that_ one time when there were only two of them preparing to fight the members of Dragonaire.

But things will change from this day on.

“Will you fight with me?”

Danger is the world they live in. Danger is the day they awake to, the night they dream in. Danger is their beginning and danger is their endgame.

“Why not? It seems like I can’t see myself standing anywhere but next to you.”

Like their fate had been written by the universe all along, Jaehyun stands next to Taeyong to overlook the world they will be leading together.

And he will be standing nowhere else but next to _his_ Kingpin.

 

 

The HQ in Bordeaux has been operating for three months now. And for three months, Jaehyun has visited five times to aid Taeyong in the meetings with Garnet. When his visit is unnecessary and the demands in Korea are taking too much of his time, Jaehyun resorts to a short video conference or a phone call with the caramel-head.

In most times, he sacrifices a few hours of sleep to check on the other. He made a promise and he will keep it. He knows Taeyong is taking his medicines, Léonie is looking out for her son and the video chats are enough to maintain the man’s behavior. Moreover, Taeyong is attending therapies in a private hospital in Bordeaux.

So Jaehyun doesn’t need to worry a lot. Like at the moment, talking to the other through the laptop and seeing that Taeyong is perfectly fine, he knows he shouldn’t think too much. Putting trust on his partner is what he always tells himself.

“Fort told me the meeting went well?”

“What else would he tell you?” Taeyong sits comfortably on the swivel chair, drumming his fingers rhythmically on the desk. “Did he tell you that there are club owners that are taking interest on some women? I’ve been getting mails. I’m too lazy to read them all.”

“I can just check it in our system if you missed anything. But don’t be lazy, I have other concerns here.”

“I was kidding.” Twisting the lollipop in his mouth, Taeyong looks up and hums, processing a few thoughts from the meeting. “I can send you the file for sales, as well as the one summarizing the earnings from the casino. Also, I visited Gabriel Artigue yesterday. He asked for another month to get enough money to replace the amount he borrowed.”

Jaehyun’s brow rises. “And what did you do?”

“Hmm,” Blue eyes squint mischievously. “Not what I usually do to people who irk the fuck out of me. I gave him a week, though.”

Satisfaction appears on the younger’s face as he goes over a document. “He promised yesterday. Another week is a luxury.”

Taeyong sighs in boredom, running a hand through his hair. “What are you doing?”

“Reviewing reports?”

“It’s fucking 7 in the evening there. Get a life?”

“This is my life, Taeyong.”

“Alright. If you say so.”

They fall into peaceful silence, doing their own thing while the video chat runs. Taeyong is in the middle of ripping another bag of candy when Jaehyun speaks again.

“Taeyong, I wanna say something stupid.”

Another lollipop is put in the caramel-head’s mouth, poking on the left cheek. The other on the right hasn’t even fully melted yet. “Go on.”

“I love you.”

Time stills.

A few rapid blinks later, the blue-eyed man finally responds. “Did you just seriously drop a fucking bomb on me?” The way he speaks sounds funny due to the two candies stuck in his mouth. He removes one, tossing it in a small bin.

Jaehyun clears his throat, suddenly faltering. “I mean I ju–“

“Don’t just say it like that.”

The younger man pretends his chest doesn’t ache. It took him a ton of courage to fully acknowledge the feelings he harbors for the other, so to say he’s hurt is an understatement. “But why?”

“Because I might say it back.”

It’s Jaehyun’s turn to stare dumbly.

Taeyong frowns, finally biting down the lollipop candy. “Bitch, are you dead? I knew it. You’ll fuckin’ act like a lovestruck teenager. I’ll take it back.”

“NO!”

The younger’s outburst makes Taeyong snort. “Fine. I’m fucking hungry. Be gone.”

“Um,” Jaehyun scratches his reddened cheek. “Eat well?”

The connection ends with Taeyong denying him of a decent reply. It’s always been like that. Jaehyun is already used to it.

His heart drums violently against his ribcage as he flips pages of an important report, preventing him to focus on the task. Knowing that he won’t be able to concentrate again, Jaehyun gets up to grab a beer from the mini fridge and quickly takes a few gulps, wincing at the way it cascades down his throat.

 _Jesus._ He really is acting like a teenager.

At least he has the reason to. Taeyong may not say it out loud but Jaehyun knows it, knows that the other feels the same way about him.

And he will wait for it to be said back to him even if takes him a series of lifetimes.

Because Lee Taeyong is worth waiting for.

***

Taeyong is on the way to get lunch when he sees Léonie come out of one of the offices. Employees are trotting off here and there, occupied with a load of work.

“What are you doing there?”

She smiles at the sight of him, patting the file folder in her arm. “I’m trying to help. It’s boring at home so I figured I should come here. Are you not really going to let me work?”

“No.” He snatches the folder from her and flips through the file with a sour face. “This is Myungsoo’s work. Give it back to him.”

Coincidentally, the owner of the name he just mentioned exits the office, stopping before them. “Uh…”

“You’re so fucking annoying, you fucktard. I told you not to give in when she comes by and tells you all–“ Taeyong slaps the folder atop Myungsoo’s head. “These sob stories because she’s fucking bored. And you,” Blue eyes meet another pair of blue. “Go to the lunch room. I’ll see you there.”

“You’ll have lunch with me?” The woman’s heart swells. This is the first time that Taeyong is willing to stay in a room with her for longer than a minute. Maybe there’s still a chance for her to redeem herself as his mother. They have all the time in the world.

“Maybe. Please go.”

Her soft smile is the last thing he sees before she disappears and he’s left with the other man in the middle of the hallway.

Myungsoo is clutching the file folder, staring right at him. Taeyong holds the contact for several seconds before taking a few steps closer, closing the distance between them.

His voice drops an octave lower when he speaks. “Don’t look at me that way.”

“W-what?” Myungsoo stammers, eyes widening.

“The way you look at me. I’ve seen someone else give it to me before. The thing is,” Taeyong glances down as he fixes the other’s suit jacket. “He’s the only one that I want to look at me that way.” Glancing back up, he continues, hoping the man gets the message. “Understood?”

His employee nods dumbly.

Satisfied with the response, Taeyong turns to leave, missing the determined look in Kim Myungsoo’s eyes.

 

 

 

**EPILOGUE**

“Until when are you staying here? You can’t ignore the meetings in Bordeaux.” Jaehyun asks in the middle of kissing down Taeyong’s naked torso, mapping out the tattoos and scars on his sun-kissed skin. The way his lips move tickles the man beneath him, and Taeyong laughs airily as his hands card through the softness of Jaehyun’s now blonde hair.

He likes the change. It’s fucking hot.

“Mm, in five hours.”

“What?!” The loudness of Jaehyun’s voice almost deafens the other. “What? Why didn’t you tell me? We’ve been fucking for three days and you didn’t think it was important to tell me you’re leaving at,” Jaehyun glances at the clock on the nightstand. “3PM?”

The overreaction annoys Taeyong. “What’s your deal? I was enjoying my time. Why would I think of the day I’m leaving when I can just,” His hand cups the back of Jaehyun’s head and pulls down before pressing his lips on the other’s. “Do these things with you?”

A bite down the younger man’s lower lip and a suck of blood later, Taeyong switches their positions and straddles Jaehyun’s waist. The chain connecting to the collar around Jaehyun’s neck rattles, calling the caramel-head’s attention. So Taeyong indulges the need and tugs the chain, pulling Jaehyun up to kiss down the side of his neck.

“You’re going to visit next month. Besides,” A sweet, marvelous tongue swirls around the blooming bruise just below Jaehyun’s collarbone. “The sex gets better when we wait for it, tease each other with phone calls and send nudes. You know it’s true. You’ve been dicking me down and I barely got out of bed.”

Teasingly, Taeyong drags his ass against the other’s crotch, hips deliciously undulating as he mercilessly grinds, chuckling when he feels Jaehyun’s cock harden from his actions. A pair of hands grips his waist, forcing him to quicken his pace.

Jaehyun groans, enjoying the pleasurable sensation coming back to him. The collar tightens around his throat everytime the man on top of him pulls the chain.

And he _loves_ every second of it.

Not wasting time – five hours is a lot but five hours is what remains before he waits for another month, Jaehyun grips the base of his cock and lifts the other’s ass before thrusting up the still tender pucker and sheathing his length inside the tight heat.

Taeyong doesn’t wince from the abrupt intrusion, only moans as he rides the man like a champ, bouncing up and down like he was deprived, famished when he just had Jaehyun in him not even two hours ago.

As their bodies move in sync on the bed, while Jaehyun’s too lost in ecstasy, Taeyong swiftly takes the knife on the nightstand and presses the blade on the pale skin. The blade glints in his wild eyes as it shallowly cuts across Jaehyun’s chest, leaving a trail of blood.

Hissing from the slight sting, Jaehyun picks up his pace, holding the older tighter while he rams up his cock in a rapid pace, set to fill the room with sounds of their skin slapping and wet squelches.

He hears nothing but his name spilling out of Taeyong’s mouth that it pushes him too soon over the edge, grunting and muffling the embarrassing noises against the caramel-head’s shoulder. Then his hand wraps around Taeyong’s rigid cock, pumping and occasionally pressing down the slit, smearing the sticky cum until it shoots ropes of white, staining his stomach.

Taeyong shoves the other back down the bed and dips his head for a taste of metallic red, swiping his tongue over the wound a few times while he waits for his breathing to slow down.

Both of their hearts race at the same pace, erratic.

“Does it hurt?”

Jaehyun shakes his head, blinking a few times as he recovers from the dazing high. When his vision clears, the first thing that greets him is the sight of Taeyong’s smile coupled with the dark spark of his intense, blue eyes.

“No…”

“Good.” Taeyong says monotonously before bringing the blade down his skin again, this time over his shoulder. “I’m going to leave my name on you, so that wherever you go, you’re wearing me.”

And Jaehyun is left with no other choice as his lover carves _T.Y._ on his once unblemished skin. Not that he wants a choice. He’ll let Taeyong do whatever he wants with him.

Even if it requires pain.

***

They’re on the way to the airport when Taeyong makes a request. The blue-eyed man doesn’t need to be at the airport for another hour so Jaehyun gives in, heading to the asylum. The car drives past trees and green grasses, now uncovered by snow and halts by the entrance just as a nurse comes out. Taeyong quickly gets off, telling the other to stay in the car before disappearing inside the facility with the woman Jaehyun recognizes as Kim Chungha.

The asylum still looks the same without a reason to change, buzzing with medical staff. Vaguely, Taeyong wonders what the patients might be doing either on the 2nd or 3rd floor.

No one bats an eye seeing the former patient enter and sit at the lounging area with his former assigned nurse.

“You don’t know how happy I was when I got a call,” Chungha informs him with the same bright smile. Her hair is shorter now but still the same color – black. “It’s been a while. Huh? Are you doing fine? Of course you are. By the way, Mark is sleeping; he’s dizzy from the meds since he’s got a slight fever.” She’s so excited that she doesn’t even let him talk, letting out an embarrassed laugh when she realizes she’s been rambling. “I’m sorry, I just…you said goodbye in a way I wasn’t expecting.”

“Sorry about that.” Taeyong’s lips purses. “Anyway I just dropped by to see how you are doing and well, to apologize, which I just did. I have work to do. I need to head back quick.”

The radiance on her face dwindles for a bit. Chungha glances surreptitiously outside before looking back at him. “If Doctor Kim sees you, he might just take you back. Besides, that stunt you pulled just proves you need an even stronger dose of all medicines and therapies given to you.”

Her cheekiness is still there, unchanging.

“I can’t do that. Do you want an honest confession?” Taeyong leans in as though what he’s about to say is a top secret. “I liked you and Mark. I liked the times I was with you, fuck the rest. But I was _full_ of _emptiness_ and it sounds fucking crazy but it’s true.” He pulls back again, crossing a leg over the other. “I don’t want to ever go back here. I’m only visiting once. In the future, I don’t think so.”

A slight disappointment crosses the nurse’s features. She’s still pretty, even prettier than the last time Taeyong saw her. “It’s okay. Everything was compensated, by the way. What you did – drugging them? That was sick. But all is well now. The facility was paid to shut up.” She looks down then, slowly wringing her hands. “Tell me, Taeyong. Who really are you?”

Taeyong weighs his options. He concludes that there’s nothing to worry about if he tells her. Though if something unpleasant arises, then he just need to do something about it. “If I tell you I’m a part of two deadly crime organizations, would you believe it?”

When she peers up at him, a twinge of horror is seen in her eyes before it’s gone as quick as it appeared. “No.”

“Good. It’s better that you don’t know shit about me. Because I drag everyone to hell.” Taeyong glances at his watch before getting up. “You don’t fit in there.”

“Where are you going?” Chungha stands up to follow him outside. Jaehyun is looking at them as Taeyong rushes back to the car.

“Away.” The caramel-head buckles up. “Let’s not see each other again, Chungha.” Their eyes meet again, and Taeyong hopes whoever her new patient is won’t hurt her the way he did. “Maybe in another lifetime we’ll be more than just a strange pair.”

 Jaehyun is just pressing down a button to close the window when the nurse runs up to them, pulling something out of her pocket–it’s Taeyong’s old journal, clumsily rolled. She hands it to the knife thrower, glancing at the two men in the car before her eyes land back on Taeyong’s. “I’ll be looking forward to that lifetime.”

Taeyong scoffs before reaching out to tuck strands of hair behind her ear. “Me too.”

***

The private jet is already at the airport apron when they arrive. Jaehyun hurries out of the car, slipping the key in his pocket as he follows behind the second kingpin of Invictus.

Taeyong hands the luggage to one of the standby attendants before facing the younger. “I’ll have to call you ASAP. Fort is arranging another meeting in two days. Or I can just mail the updates to you. You might be getting sick of me now.”

“Impossible. It’ll take a lot worse than that for me to stop. I’m in too deep.”

The wind blows in their direction, sifting through their hair. As Jaehyun stares at the man he’s come to hate and care for at the same time, the memories of the past come washing over him in monstrous waves.

In a matter of seconds he sees himself back in Red Phoenix, joining the squad and witnessing the most feared knife thrower’s wrath for the first time, dealing with his insufferable ass back in the cabin, the misunderstandings between them when they struggled for control, to see each other lose in a game fueled by their pride, and until now, in the fruit of the progress they made together.

Lee Taeyong will always be the man he knew since the beginning. Inside the cold heart is still a ruthless killer, just sleeping, tamed by the spell of medications and waiting for the right time to flare up again, to feed its hidden desires.

And if the time comes they fall back into square one, Jaehyun knows he will find himself there again – in front of Lee Taeyong, ready to begin a good chase.

Because all about Lee Taeyong is a challenge. Jung Jaehyun always loves a challenge.

“I gotta board. I don’t really fancy joining a staring contest with you at the moment.” Taeyong pats his arm and turns to make his way to the jet. Jaehyun remains where he is, mesmerized with the way the other man’s tresses drift through the wind.

 _God,_ he’ll always love Taeyong’s unorthodox hairstyle.

He’s just about to leave, to go back to the HQ where a pile of work sits on the desk awaiting him when his name is called.

“Jaehyun!”

The blonde man turns. “Yeah?”

Taeyong pops a candy in his mouth. When he speaks, his words are hurried, though clear and stronger than anything that ever slipped past his lips, deadlier than any threat that dripped from a murderer’s tongue.

“I _think_ I love you – more than cigarettes and candies combined.”

 

_End._

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! 
> 
> Credits to @taeyolgi on Twitter for the Italian translations ^^
> 
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> 
> [Drop messages on my curious cat!](http://curiouscat.me/jenniefilms)  
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